#opening up ffn for the first time in two years

[clownao]

Hello everyone! Long time no see!

I think I'm going to release my plans for Which Partner? (ChibaHaya, AssClass x Miraculous Ladybug crossover), a fic I haven't really touched since... 2019? It'll be a really long AN, but I want to give that fic closure :) And I did promise to do so back in 2021 (and forgot about it):

"And if I do ditch it, I’ll post the fic outline. I think it’s only fair to anyone who’s still following it… although idk who still is lmao."

I still have a lot of thoughts about WP but those will be in the super long AN lmao. I'm sorry for all the unfulfilled promises, and a sincere thank you to everyone who read it ♡♡♡

[jrob64]

A Love/Hate Relationship - a CS modern AU one-shot

I wrote this story because I was in need of fluff, humor and hurt/comfort after the painful experience of losing two dogs in less than a year. Zeke, who was in my story Sowing Seeds of Trust, died of cancer last June. Two months later, we adopted Winston, who was the main character in Pet for Rent. Somehow, he swallowed part of a brush (while he wasn't at home) which perforated his intestines and caused internal bleeding. He died May 23. Writing my favorite trope for my favorite couple is therapeutic for me as I deal with my heartbreak.

Many thanks to @kmomof4 and @hookedmom.

Summary: Killian Jones' neighbor, Emma Swan, has hated him since the first day they met. When she finds out he came down with the flu and attempts to nurse him back to health, he's more than a little confused.

Rating: T

Words: 2582

Also posted to ffn and Ao3

Story is under the cut

*********

Killian Jones buried his face in a pillow and pulled it up over his head in an attempt to stop the incessant pounding. After several painful moments, he realized the noise wasn’t in his head, but was coming from the front door of his apartment.

Groaning, he tossed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting with his head in his hands for a short while. When he finally got to his feet, he swayed dizzily and stumbled into the door frame, leaning against it to try to regain his balance.

He eventually made his way across the living room, unlocked the deadbolt and threw the door open. “What?” he demanded loudly, regretting it immediately when a sharp pain shot behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut before even registering who was on the other side of the door.

“Jones, how many times do I have to tell you to…Wow! You look like hell.”

Killian cracked his eyes open enough to see his neighbor from across the hall, Emma Swan. Infuriating to the highest degree and just as beautiful, she was the last person he wanted to see while he was in his current state. The two of them had a love/hate relationship…minus the love.

They had gotten off on the wrong foot when he moved in a little over a year ago. Unaware that she was a police officer who worked the night shift, he woke her up shouting orders at the movers. Emma Swan was not a morning person, especially after working an eight hour shift on the streets of Boston, and she informed him of it in no uncertain terms.

After that day, every interaction between them was filled with tension and snarkiness. Killian wished they could go back to when they met and start over again, because he knew she was basing her hatred of him on that first impression. In all honesty, he was quite intrigued by the fierce blonde and would like to know if there was a sweet or funny side of her she kept hidden very deep inside. Very, very deep.

Now she was here, standing at his door, scrutinizing him like a bug squashed on the bottom of her shoe. “Hangover?” she smirked.

He sighed. “I have the flu, Swan. It’s been going around at the office and I wasn’t lucky enough to avoid it. Now, if you’re done yelling at me, is there something I can help you with? If not, I’d really like to go back to bed.”

She took a step forward and unexpectedly pressed her palm to his forehead, then both hands to his unshaven cheeks. “You’ve got a fever.”

“Usually accompanies the flu. Now if you’ll…”

“Do you have medicine?”

“No, I…”

“Have you eaten? Are you drinking plenty of fluids?”

“I haven’t…”

“How long have you had it? Have you seen a doctor?”

Killian rested his pounding head against the door. “Must you use your interrogation techniques on me? I haven’t committed a crime, you know.”

“I’m trying to help,” she said, clearly offended.

“I could use less help and more sleep,” he grumbled.

“Yes, good,” she said, pushing past him into his apartment. “Go back to bed and I’ll get you something to drink. Do you want water, juice or…”

“More questions, Swan? Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“All you have to drink is water, Dr. Pepper Zero and beer?” she asked, peering into his refrigerator. Closing it, she straightened up and began opening cupboards. “Do you have tea bags? British people like to drink tea, don’t they?”

He knew it would hurt his head to roll his eyes, so he simply threw up his hands and trudged off to his bedroom. Behind him, he could hear Emma celebrating the fact that she’d located the tea bags.

He had just gotten back to sleep, when he was shaken awake. “What now?” he growled, flopping onto his back.

“I made some tea and found Advil in your medicine cabinet. You need to drink something and get these pills in you.”

He raised his head and blinked up at her blearily. “You went through my medicine cabinet?”

“Yeah. Did you know condoms have an expiration date? The ones you have in there expired almost two years ago. Better not use them, because they’re likely to break.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, letting his head drop back down on his pillow. “Please just let me die.”

“You aren’t gonna die from the flu, Jones.”

“I meant from embarrassment,” he muttered under his breath.

“Sit up,” she commanded, sliding her arm under his pillow and pushing until he did as he was told.

First, she handed him a bottle of water. After glaring at her for several seconds, he finally took it, then swiped the two pills she held in her other palm. He popped them into his mouth and downed them with the water.

“Happy now?” he asked.

“Deliriously,” she quipped. “Now drink your tea.”

He accepted the mug she offered him and held it to his lips. Cautiously taking a sip, he grimaced and spit it back into the cup. “Did you heat the water at all? It’s barely warm! And how bloody much sugar did you put in it?”

“Well, I didn’t want you to burn your mouth,” she explained haughtily. “And I put in the same amount of sugar as I put in my coffee. Four spoonfuls.”

“Four?” he questioned. “Are you trying to kill me, or just give me diabetes?”

“You’re not a very good patient, Jones. You could at least be grateful that I’m helping you.”

“If you recall, I didn’t ask for your help.”

She ignored him, fluffing his pillow and pushing at his chest to get him to lay back down. “I found a can of chicken noodle soup in your cupboard. I’m going to heat it up.”

“Don’t add any sugar to it,” he groused, as she walked out of the bedroom, taking the tepid cup of tea with her.

“I heard that,” she threw over her shoulder.

“Of course she heard that, but didn’t hear when I told her to leave me alone,” he mumbled into his pillow. He tossed and turned, knowing that if he went to sleep, the maddening woman would just wake him up again.

Sure enough, she was back at his bedside within ten minutes, carefully carrying a plate containing a steaming bowl of soup and a small stack of saltine crackers. He sat up before she could order him to, and took the plate from her.

“You didn’t add anything to this, did you?” he asked.

“Nope, I just heated it up,” she assured him.

He dipped the spoon into the soup, blew on it and put it in his mouth, then promptly choked and sputtered. “Bloody hell, Swan! Didn’t you add any water to this?”

“Why would I add water?” she asked, a confused frown forming on her face.

“Because Campbell’s soup is condensed. It’s too salty this way. Adding extra water dilutes it enough that it tastes like soup is supposed to taste, rather than tasting like…like the ocean. Haven’t you ever made soup from a can before?”

“Sure,” she said, crossing her arms across her chest petulantly. “I make Progresso soup all the time, but I never add water to it.”

“Progresso soup isn’t condensed. This is.” He took the stack of crackers, then thrust the plate back towards her. “I’ll just eat these, thanks very much. Now that you’ve tended to me, you can leave me in peace.”

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” she asked.

Was that concern he saw on her face? Surely not. Emma Swan would never be concerned about him. It would be more realistic if she were to try to poison him. Perhaps he should have been more careful eating and drinking what she gave him.

Shaking his head slightly to try to clear those thoughts, he said gruffly, “Yes, I’m sure. It’s not like you really helped anyway.”

This time, he thought he saw a flash of hurt cross her face, before she turned and left the room. Soon he heard the front door close.

He couldn’t have really seen Emma Swan look concerned and hurt, could he? Great. Now he was going to have to add hallucinations to his list of symptoms.

He ate the crackers, then lay down and turned onto his side, tugging the blanket up around his shoulders. He was achy and feverish, but it was the guilt over how he treated his apparently well-meaning neighbor that kept him from falling asleep.

*********

Three days later, after his fever had been broken for twenty-four hours, Killian went back to work. Upon returning home at the end of the day and getting his keys out to unlock his apartment, the door across the hall opened and Emma stepped out.

“Oh, hey Jones. Looks like you recovered, no thanks to me.”

Killian rubbed his finger behind his ear. “I owe you an apology, Swan. I was rude and should have never said what I did.”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s no big deal. I guess I’ll never be a Florence Nightingale.” Turning on her heel, she muttered, “See ya around.”

“Swan…Emma, wait,” he called out, hurrying after her.

She turned around. “What?” she huffed.

“I, uh, I truly am sorry. It was very kind of you to try to help me, but…”

“But what?”

“But why did you do that? I mean, given the fact you hate me…”

“I don’t hate you,” she interrupted.

“Really? You could have fooled me.”

Emma stuck her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and looked down at the floor for several long moments. When she finally looked up, he was shocked to see the vulnerability on her face.

“Look… I’m not good with…people,” she said softly. “And I’m also not good at admitting when I’m wrong.”

She paused and he waited patiently, wondering where she was going with this.

“None of the people I know would be concerned enough to check on me if I called in sick to work. You’ve lived here long enough for me to realize that…that you don’t seem to have anyone like that, either. I never see anyone coming or going on a regular basis - besides the pizza delivery guy, but I don’t think he counts.”

Killian chuckled dryly. “You’re very observant, Swan.” He paused for a moment, debating whether he should open up to her as she was to him. “And you’re also correct,” he added finally. “I moved here from England when I was transferred for my job, and I don’t have any close friends yet.”

She nodded. “I figured it was something like that. The day you moved in, I was…well, to put it bluntly, I was a bitch. And, as I said, I’m not good at apologizing, so I just let things go on being…uncomfortable. When I saw that you were sick the other day, I thought it was my chance to make things better between us, but I screwed that up, too. I just…I guess I wanted to let you know that you didn’t have to be alone while you were suffering - that there was someone who cared. I…I’m sorry I made things worse.”

“You didn’t make things worse,” he assured her. “I appreciate the effort. Actually, if you think about it, it was really quite comical.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“And they do say laughter is the best medicine, so your failed attempts at helping are probably what cured me so quickly.”

Seeing the grin on his face, the corners of her own mouth turned up a bit. “You’re an idiot, Jones.”

He took a step closer. “How about if we start over, Emma? It would be nice to have a friend living across the hall.”

She eyed him, chewing her lip in contemplation. Then she held her hand out to him. “Hi, I’m Emma Swan. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

He reached forward to give her hand a firm shake. “Killian Jones. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Swan.”

She smiled and he was amazed at how it transformed her already lovely face. They stood awkwardly for several moments, until Killian said, “Well, I should let you go. Were you on your way to work?”

“Oh, uh, no. I was just going to get something to eat.”

He rubbed his hand along his jaw, dropping his eyes as he asked, “Would you, um…would you like some company?” Looking back up, he saw her eyes widen and hurried to add, “Just as a friend. As you well know, I don’t have much to eat in my apartment.”

She snorted out a laugh. “You still have more than I do at my place.” Turning away from him once again, she said, “If you’re sure, you’re welcome to join me. I was just gonna go to the diner around the corner. Tonight’s special is grilled cheese and onion rings.”

“Ah, greasy diner food,” he said, beginning to follow her. “You do know if you keep eating that stuff, your arteries are going to be filled with sludge.”

She chose to ignore him as she started down the stairs. “They have the best hot chocolate, too.”

“How much sugar do you add to it?” he grinned.

She glared at him over her shoulder. “No sugar, just cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon in hot chocolate? Sounds…interesting.”

She stopped on the landing and turned to look at him. “If you’re gonna make fun of my preferences for food and drink, you’re uninvited.”

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he said, “I meant no offense, Swan. Perhaps I’ll even give your…unique concoction a try.”

That meal led to another, and many more. Soon they added regular coffee dates. Gradually, at Killian’s urging, Emma tried and eventually acquired a taste for black coffee, no sugar. Even more gradually, at Emma’s urging, Killian acquired a taste for greasy diner food.

Six weeks after Emma’s attempt to nurse Killian back to health, they went on their first official date. Killian was very happy to discover that Emma Swan did indeed have both a sweet and funny side. They realized they had many things in common, as they talked during their dinner at one of Boston’s most renowned restaurants, then walked along the waterfront.

At the conclusion of the date, they shared a kiss outside her apartment door, which opened both of their eyes to the fact that there was a significant spark of attraction between them. As they continued to date, the spark ignited into a blazing flame. (They made sure to replace the expired condoms in Killian’s medicine cabinet, once it was obvious they were going to put them to use.)

They became each other’s ‘person’ - someone to laugh with, cry with, share everything with, and nurse back to health when the need arose. By the following winter, when the flu made its way through Killian’s office once again, he had his own live-in nurse, whose skills were much improved from the previous year.

By that time, they still had a love/hate relationship…but now, it was minus the hate.

*********

A couple of fun notes:

-Colin was drinking a Dr. Pepper Zero during the Meet & Greet I went to at GalaxyCon in Columbus last year.

-At another con several years ago, Jen admitted she never drank black coffee until Colin got her hooked on it. (No pun intended!)

*********

Thank you for reading.

Tagging:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4 @hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda

@pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426

@julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones

@zaharadessert @lyssapup27 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90 @apiratewhopines

@hollyethecurious @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @caught-in-the-filter @stahlop @veryverynotgoodwrites @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie @beckettj

[fountainpenguin]

"Though we both know one day there'll be blood on the floor... but which one will betray the other more?" (x)

New Fairly OddParents 'fic today!

Rated T - 6,900 words

50 Words of Dale and Vicky

📖 Read on FFN || Read on AO3

🌃 City Lights AU

✨ More Fairly OddParents 'fics

🎲 Randomlists.com's 50-word generator

50 scene snippets about two inseparable BFFs and a string of bad decisions. Predates lemon pit torture.

OR, Dale and Vicky were friends when they were kids.

(First 5 prompts under the cut)

50 Words of Dale and Vicky Friday August 14th, 1992 - Friday April 14th, 1995 Summer of the Pink Star - Spring of the Small Sunflower

1. Balance

Even Dad raised an eyebrow at the redhead who took the mutton bustin' like a piece of sticky tape. The sheep charged through the Dimmsdale Dimmadome's mucky arena, the girl thumping up and down on its back. With every second she clung, the crowd surged higher and higher with excitement- cheering already! Did she sew her sleeves to its wool or something? 6-year-old Dale, safe behind the chute fence, braced his arms a little straighter; craned his neck a little higher.

"Whoa… She's cruisin' like a roadrunner."

One flump of a small body later, the little girl went tumbling through the muck. But she won, of course (and scored the traditional belt buckle emblem plus a set of 4 family tickets to Wave 'N Rage to prove it). The girl cheered into Dad's microphone and jumped up and down. Watching some black-haired woman and a redheaded guy (who must be her two parents) fawn over her, Dale had to wonder… if she had any siblings.

That was wicked…

Her name was Vicky Aingeal. And he was about to be the best friend she never asked for.

2. Cattle

The next time he saw her, it was at the state fair. The scruffy scarlet ponytail hadn't changed. She wolfed down a funnel cake at a table, her parents to either side (and sharing their own). Powdered sugar smeared her lips and fingers. That stuff had to be so greasy… but it looked delicious. Dale, who had already been a Bright Young Man and a Very Well-Behaved Good Boy (semi-interchangeably) for the past 5 minutes while his dad talked about cows and bovine and steer and heifers with Mr. So-'N-So (Cue laughter; they were friends), decided he'd finished standing in the hot sun, bouncing on his toes. He darted his gaze between Vicky and the back of his dad's head. Another 20 seconds flickered by. This time, Dale's stomach even growled. And if that wasn't a sign, what was?

"Dad-"

Dad didn't stop talking, but he did move his hand to Dale's shoulder and gave a quiet squeeze. Not now, said the gesture, so Dale went quiet. He played with the big brim of his hat, staring at Vicky and her funnel cake until she stopped eating and raised her head. Their eyes flicked across each other. Dale jumped and glanced away. Back to the cattle. The Dimmadomes showed fat and healthy cows every year at… the cow-showing event. "Open dairy," Dad called it with his friends (SO awesome; all fancy). Dale never remembered the name except this time of year, but he definitely knew cows.

"Dad," Dale tried again. But dad kept talking, squeezing his arm again, so Dale went quiet for real and softly picked at his nose. The grown-ups talked cows, milk, and hormones… And when that all wrapped up, Doug scooped him up and set him on his hip in one shwoop.

"Now, what's all the fuss, son? What's got your knickknack paddy whacking?"

"Dad, I want a funnel cake."

Doug Dimmadome (owner of the Dimmsdale Dimmadome) threw an unreadable glance at the table where Vicky and her parents ate. It might've been unreadable because Dale was only 6. "Too risky, kiddo. It's probably got dairy. Now come on, son- You wanna lead the herd with me?"

3. Instrument

"Huh," was the first thing Vicky said when she came across the refrigerated butter sculpture. Seriously? Three giant cows playing in a band? "Pretty weird." It was a huge amount of butter and that was kinda impressive all in all, but… did it serve any purpose? It wouldn't last. Who would want to keep that thing cold for months? Even winter wouldn't get cold enough to not melt it. She looked for a price tag, a card- anything that indicated it might be for sale. Was this thing just donated? Free of charge? I wouldn't want it either, but that feels like a waste. I'm sure SOMEONE would buy it. Some kind of stupid, rich…

She was still there, leaning so close to the clear case, her nose could've touched the nearest instrument, when someone tapped her shoulder. She yelped, hit the case (with her face), and spun around. "Who-? … Oh." That weird kid who'd been staring at her while she ate lunch. When Vicky blinked at him, he pushed the brim of his big hat up with one thumb. He even smiled.

"I saw you at the mutton bustin'."

"The what?"

"You rode the sheep? Most people don't stay on that long."

"Oh, yeah. That sheep was a loser."

The kid blinked, like he actually cared about some random sheep's feelings or something. Honestly, with a name like mutton bustin', whoever was in charge of that thing probably cooked it up and ate it by now. "Well," said the kid, pretty slow on the word. He put out his hand. "I'm Dale… Donovan. And you're Vicky, right?"

"Uh, are you following me?"

4. Sheet

He showed her the chicken tent, the pigs, and the cattle (with their parents trailing behind, of course- Dad had a lot of business to talk and Vicky's parents didn't seem to mind he was there, even if Vicky still gave him weird sideways looks like she couldn't decide just what to make of him). But little by little… those shoulders that looked like tall fenceposts started coming down like a gate sinking underwater.

Then he showed her something super interesting over her shoulder while he tore down the sheet with the name Dimmadome scrawled across it. Look… Is it so wrong to want a friend who likes you without asking about your dad getting rich?

He ignored the confused looks the cows shot him as he bunched the paper in his hand.

5. Resonant

Y'know what? There was something REALLY funny about watching the awkward kid jump about 10 feet in the air (skeleton practically leaping from his skin) when a piercing whistle carried through the air.

"Th-that's my dad," Dale stuttered. "I have to go. Um. 'Bye."

Huh. So, did he not like to add the 'good' in 'good-bye' either? Maybe he's more self-aware of the crushing weight of existence than I thought. Not the worst quality in a friend.

Read on FFN || Read on AO3

[ghostly-penumbra]

Father and Sons

Ao3 FFN

Summary: Clockwork is Danny's loving, adoptive grandpa. Time is the Endless' neglectful father. They are one and the same.

Chapter One: First Meeting

- - -

Dream of the Endless stepped into his father's realm and found himself alone. Neither Dream of the Cats nor Hope Beautiful Lost Nebula had come with him. This wouldn't affect him, he would carry on.

He walked down the sprawling garden and stumbled then upon a young boy wearing his father's sygil in a purple cloak, not unlike one his father might use when seen by humans.

The boy stopped dead in his tracks when he saw him, the tilted watering can still spilling its content with no end in sight.

"Uh… hello?" He asked tentatively, the can still tipped. "May I help y—?"

"Who are you?" Dream asked bluntly, straightforward, looking at this child whose identity and dreams were blurred to him, being from a different time period than him, and his father's realm not being a Soft Place nor Dream's jurisdiction.

"Oh! That's- I'm… not supposed to just give my name to strangers." He trailed off, and finally straightened the watering can. "I'll… go get my grandpa." He turned and flew away, giving the perplexed Lord Shaper one last look before vanishing from sight.

"Dream." His father's voice had him turn around and there he was, shifting in shape through ages.

A toddler, a child, an old man, a younger man, if time could truly be described as a man, but always, invariably, with a jagged scar going across his eye.

Next to him stood the boy, looking between father and son with green eyes full of human curiosity, but ultimately leaning towards Dream's father with ease.

"What do you want?" His father asked as his beard vanished to give way to a toddler's impassive face. "You only come here if you want something."

"Can't a son see his father with no motive other than to wish him well?" He asked instead of answering.

This was unscripted. As it often did with his father, being in his presence was to step in loops and whorls of someone else's design, leaving Dream wrong-footed, regardless of where he stepped.

But for that same reason a strange child trailing after his father and referring to him as 'his grandpa' would not deter him from what he had come here for.

It did make him wonder, though…

"Of course you can," Father Time was saying, "but you never do. If any of you or your siblings visit is because you need my help."

"Siblings?! How many children do you have?" The boy almost shouted in what he seemed to believe was a whisper.

Dream turned his gaze upon him, the intense cosmos in his eyes having him shrink, abashedly, behind his father's figure once again.

Dream's father closed his eyes for one second – or a dozen. Or a year, or seventy, or a century – and then opened them again and turned his head towards his companion. "Seven." Was all he said.

"Damn!"

And against anything Dream would have thought, his father smiled, small but genuine. Fond.

"As you well know, I am older than dust."

They were making their way through the garden, where some plants grew and flourished or perished or even returned to seeds as Time approached them, and his father picked two apples, one of which he handed to the boy – who was now floating after Father Time –, and the other he offered to Dream.

"I'm not hungry."

"You will be."

Dream disregarded his father's remark and ignored the proffered fruit, even as the boy happily bit into his own.

"I wasn't travelling alone." Dream said. "Why am I the only one here?"

"You were planning on bringing your friends, uninvited, to my domain, son?" His father asked, his youthful face at odds with the rotting fruit in his hands.

"Not friends, no. A cat, who is also me. And a girl."

His father held a hand to his forehead and sighed, before looking back up at Dream whilst he handed the fresh apple to… his grandson.

"What do you want, Dream?"

"Help me, father. Help me."

- - -

[Chapter Two]

[q-gorgeous]

Destabilizing

ao3

ffn

Vlad Masters suddenly shows up at the Fenton household after disappearing for years asking for their help.

heres my holiday truce fill for @sybill-d

ahhh im sorry this was so late. i intended to do a storyboard of this, and i still intend to, but my arms and hands have been hurting lately and i couldnt trust myself to get this done by the third without aggravating whats hurting already 😔 but! here this is for now :D

woooooo

Jack sat at his work station in the lab. He couldn’t focus on his work today. Looking to his left, his gaze traveled over his desk until it landed on the framed picture that sat in front of him. Him, Maddie, and their old college buddy. They haven’t seen him in years. He always wondered what happened, why Vlad never spoke to them again. 

Jack sighed. There’s no use dwelling on the past. He just had to hope Vlad was doing well these days.

“Jack, are those samples ready yet?” Maddie called across the room to him. 

He spun in his chair to face her. “Yes, Maddie. They’ll be ready in-”

A crash sounded from upstairs and both he and Maddie turned to look towards it. Maddie stood up, planting her hands on her desk.

“What was that?” She shouted. 

Jack stood up and walked up behind her. “I don’t know.” He frowned.

He made his way across the room to the stairs. Maddie followed behind him. 

“Maybe it’s Danny and his friends?” She said.

“Or a ghost.” Jack glanced at her. “Stay alert.”

“Right!” Maddie brandished her gun and a focused expression crossed her face. 

Together they made their way up the stairs and through the heavy duty doorway. They tiptoed through the kitchen and backed up against the wall that divided the room from the kitchen. Jack peeked around the corner.

There was a figure in the living room, He looked just in time to see them fall to the floor. That must’ve been what that crashing sound was. This person couldn’t stay on their feet. 

He popped out from around the corner and pointed at the figure on the floor. Maddie aimed her gun at them. 

“Put your hands up…” Jack trailed off as his eyes adjusted to the dark lighting in the living room. 

Lying on the floor in front of him was their old college buddy Vlad Masters. 

“... Spook.” He finished softly. He heard Maddie gasp beside him. 

“...please.” Vlad spoke. “Help me…” 

Jack couldn’t believe it. 

“Vladdie?” Why was Vlad here? What happened to him all these years they’ve been apart?

“Vlad, what happened to you?” Maddie exclaimed. She walked across the room and bent over to help lift him off the floor. She laid his arm across her shoulders and lifted him up. Vlad groaned as he stood up. 

That was when Jack took in the state that Vlad was really in. He had green spots all over him. 

“Why are you covered in ectoplasm?” Jack reached a hand out and stepped closer to the two of them. He squinted at him. “Did a spookum get you?” 

Vlad opened groggy eyes and looked at him. “No. I’m sorry to show up so unexpectedly. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“We haven’t seen you since college!” 

“Where have you been all these years?” Jacked asked.

“I’m sorry for disappearing…” Vlad looked away from Jack. “There was something I never told you two. Something that I was afraid to tell you.”

A pit formed deep in Jack’s stomach.

“Do you remember my portal accident?”

Now Jack felt almost nauseated. Of course he remembered Vlad’s portal accident. He’d never been able to forgive himself for getting his best friend hurt. 

“That it didn’t work?” Vlad continued. “And I got hurt?” 

Vlad shuddered. “It changed me. In a way I couldn’t explain.”

Jack frowned. What did he mean by that?

“It wasn’t until the doctors diagnosed me with ecto-acne that I understood.” Vlad finally looked back up. First at Maddie, then at Jack. “I had somehow obtained ghostly attributes in that accident.”

Vlad coughed and Maddie gently guided him to the couch in the living room. She slowly sat him down and covered him in a blanket. He took a deep, shuddering breath before he looked back up and continued. 

“They cured the ecto-acne, but there was still something wrong with me.” Vlad held a hand to his head, a vacant stare now in his eyes. “Sometimes I would have trouble keeping my form. I started my own research but I couldn’t find a solution. I was getting weaker.”

He looked back up at them. 

“I’m destabilizing. And I need your help.”

Both Jack and Maddie looked at him with shocked expressions. 

“What can we do though?” Maddie asked. 

Vlad looked at them with such conviction that Jack couldn’t help but believe him. “You’re the most brilliant ghost scientists there are. If anyone can help me, it’d be you.”

Jack shook his head. He didn’t understand. Vlad was destabilizing? Wasn’t that something ghosts did if they grew to be too weak? Humans couldn’t destabilize. Did that mean that Vlad was a-

“Can you excuse us for a moment?” Maddie spoke in her pretend cheerful voice. It set off the alarm bells in Jack’s head. 

She grabbed onto the collar of his jumpsuit and roughly pulled him out of the room and into the kitchen. 

Jack turned to look over his shoulder to see Vlad frowning sadly at his lap. Jack frowned at that. 

Maddie tucked them back against the wall they had been hiding behind before. “How do we know we can trust him? What if he’s a ghost?”

Jacked looked over his shoulder. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t we trust him? He was our best friend.”

Maddie leaned past him to look past the wall to where Vlad sat in the living room. “It doesn’t matter if he was our friend. A ghost is a ghost.”

The alarm bells in Jack’s head grew louder. “He seems to believe he’s still human though.” Maddie placed a hand on her chin as she listened to him speak. “We could use the ghost catcher to see if we can separate the ghost from him.”

“That could work.” She said. “If he’s human, it’ll separate the ectoplasm from him. If he’s a ghost, we’ll know.”

Maddie put a smile on her face and walked back into the living room. Jack followed her, conflicted. Vlad didn’t seem like a ghost. He seemed normal. Ghosts were evil.

Jack stopped beside Maddie in the living room. She clapped her hands together.

“We’ll help you! We want what’s best for you!” Maddie closed her eyes and tilted her head. “We’ll just need you to come down to our lab so we can start working.”

Vlad smiled at them. “Thank you. How can I ever repay you?” 

Maddie walked up to Vlad and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s nothing! We just want you to get better.” She helped him up. “Now let’s get you down to the lab.”

She walked by Jack as she continued talking to Vlad. “We’ll figure out how to get you fixed up in a jiffy. I’m sure we have something to help you. We have an assortment of ghost hunting and research inventions. Surely something will help.”

Jack frowned at their backs as they headed towards the basement door. He sighed and followed after them, the pit still deep in his stomach. 

He made his way down the stairs and into the lab. When he got down there he saw Maddie sitting Vlad down on the lab table. 

“Right here, Vlad. Take a seat on this examination table.” She gestured to the cold looking table in the center of the lab. “We’ll start by taking your vitals.”

She pulled a couple things out of the drawers in one of their countertops. The first thing she pulled out of her new pile was a stethoscope. She placed the earpieces in her ears and put the other end to his chest. She listened carefully.

“Hmm… Heartbeat is slower than normal.” She pulled a thermometer out next.

She placed it in his mouth and studied it closely. She took it out of his mouth and read it. 

“Temperature is near hypothermic.”

Then she took out a blood pressure measurer. She wrapped it around his arm and squeezed the pump a couple times. She pressed the stethoscope to his arm and listened for a few moments. 

“Blood pressure is low.” She said quietly. “Jack, would you be able to get a blood sample? I’ll get a swab of his mouth to test for ectoplasmic viruses.”

Jack shook out the bad feeling in his stomach and threw a smile on his face. “You got it, Mads.”

He grabbed a syringe from her pile on the counter and turned to face Vlad. As he turned he could see Vlad visibly gulp. Jack smiled at him sympathetically. “Don’t worry, Vladdie. This’ll be over before you know it.”

Vlad smiled softly at him. “Thank you, Jack.”

“All done, V-Man!”

Vlad looked down at his elbow that Jack was in the process of wrapping. “Wow, that really was fast.”

Jack smiled at him again and Vlad looked like he was about to say something else when Maddie suddenly shoved a swab in his mouth.

“Swab acquired!” She said excitedly. “Let’s go examine these, Jack!” 

“You bet, Maddie!” He exclaimed. He turned to look back at Vlad. “We’ll be right back.”

He walked across the room to Maddie’s workstation. 

“Here’s the blood sample, Maddie.”

“Look at this, Jack. This swab shows no traces of any ecto-viral infections.”

Jack frowned. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

Maddie shook her head. “Not if we’re hoping that Vlad isn’t really a ghost.”

They both looked down at the microscope sitting on her desk. This wasn’t really looking good for Vlad…

Jack held up the syringe and spoke softly. “Let’s take a look at the blood sample.”

Maddie grabbed it from him and set everything up. She slid the petri dish into the microscope and bent down to look through it. 

She looked back at him.

“Jack, take a look at this.”

He took her place and looked through the microscope. The ectoplasm here didn’t look out of place. It looked almost as if it belonged there.

“This is odd.” Jack said as he looked at it. He stood back up and turned towards her. “Maddie, I think this ectoplasm is melded to his DNA.” 

Jacked turned to look at Vlad over his shoulder. He coughed into his blanket and took a deep breath.

“I don’t think he’d survive it if we removed it.”

Maddie shook her head. “Nonsense, Jack. This is probably what’s making him sick. Surely using the ghost catcher and separating it from him will cure him.”

“But what if you’re wrong?”

Maddie squinted at him, pointing a finger at him. “Are you doubting me?” She asked lowly. 

“No. I think we just need to think more critically about this instead of jumping right in.” Jack said. 

“But he’s a ghost!” Maddie shouted.

“We don’t know that!” Jack whispered back at her.

“Is everything going alright over there?” Vlad called.

“Oh!” Maddie threw her hands into the air exuberantly and turned back towards where Vlad sat, walking over to him. “Everything’s okay! We have a way to cure you!” 

Vlad smiled a big smile at her. “Really?”

“Yes!” Maddie said cheerily. “We’re going to use the Fenton Ghost Catcher to remove the ectoplasm from your DNA!”

“What?” Vlad shouted. He backed away a couple steps away from her, looking ready to bolt if she so much as moved wrong. 

“The ectoplasm must be what’s causing your illness.” Maddie walked across the lab and dragged the ghost catcher out of the closet it was sitting in and across the room. She patted it. “This bad boy will remove all of it!” 

Vlad took another couple steps back, the blanket falling off from his shoulders and to the floor. Jack stepped up and held an arm up in front of Vlad. 

“Maddie we can’t do this!” Jack pleaded. “He’s not comfortable with this!”

She gestured behind her at the ghost catcher. “We have to do this otherwise the ectoplasm will kill him!” 

“Removing the ectoplasm will kill me!” Vlad shouted from behind Jack. 

“The ectoplasm is what’s killing you!” Maddie shouted back at him. “What else could it be?”

Vlad rolled his eyes and threw his arms into the air. “Why won’t you listen to me?” He held his hands to his chest. “Why do you insist on hurting me?”

Jack took another step forward. “Maddie, please. This is our friend.”

“How do we know he’s not a ghost?” She threw back at him. “How do we know he’s not tricking us?”

Vlad sighed. “Even if I was a ghost, not all ghosts are evil like we hypothesized. I was terrified for so long that I would become evil.”

He leveled a look at Maddie.

“But that never happened. Because I’m the one who decides who I want to be. Not whether or not I have ectoplasm.” Vlad looked away from Maddie. 

Jack was about to stop her when he saw Maddie approaching Vlad quickly but stopped once she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. 

“I’m so sorry, Vlad.” She whispered into his shoulder. “I went about this all wrong.” 

Vlad wrapped his own arms around her. “It’s alright, Maddie. Thank you for believing in me.” They smiled at each other. 

Jack walked up to both of them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “Now let’s get back to work. We have a friend to fix up. We’ve got an old concoction that always seemed to make spooks stronger. We can try that if you’re up for it, Vladdie.”

“That’s probably our best bet.” Vlad placed a hand on his chin. “I’ve tried just about everything else. That’s something I’ve never thought of before. Genius.”

Jack pulled the two of them closer to him. “Let’s get started!” 

Qqqqqqq

Jack picked up a vial from his set that sat on his desk. He stood up and turned to face Vlad where he sat beside Maddie. 

“Alright, Vladdie! Here it is! A fresh batch of ecto-dejecto! Are you ready?” 

Vlad turned around to face him and Jack’s heart twinged at the fresh ectoplasm that covered his face. Vlad smiled at him. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Jack handed the vial to Maddie and she filled a syringe with it. 

“Okay. Here we go.”

Vlad squeezed his eyes shut as Maddie plunged the syringe into his upper arm. 

“All done.” 

Vlad’s eyes shot open just as the ectoplasm started seeping back into his skin, the blemishes disappearing right before their very eyes. A big smile spread across his face. 

“It’s gone.” Vlad laughed. “It’s all gone!”

He walked up between Jack and Maddie and wrapped his arms around their shoulders.

“Thank you! So much.” He glanced between them. “How can I ever repay you?”

Jack jostled them. “Just don’t disappear on us again!” 

Vlad chuckled softly. “I can do that.”

[keylovesstuff]

Hiii Everyone!!!

I've been around for years now and have never introduced myself. mainly cause I just choose to vibe and enjoy the posts people share, but first time for everything. You can just call me Key, I'm 24 and I go by she/her. I enjoy a variety of stuff from manwha, manga, anime, video game franchises, and just a bunch of other animated media you name its probably buried down in my blog somewhere. Every now and then I get motivation to create fanfiction. I have only written works the Dragonball and Super Mario fandom All my works are under the "Keep Reading". My DMs and askbox here is always open if you ever want to chat I apologize in advance if I come across as a bit awkward (socializing is not a strong suit of mine) or if it takes me a minute to reply (adulting and hobbies am I right?), otherwise I'm a pretty chill person. Thats about it!

One of these days I really want to change my Penname...But I've had it for years now and I'm way too attached to it lmao.

Super Mario Fics: So a lot of these are Princess Peach centric and I'm just crafting up an origin story and some other events following the 2023 film. The links take you to the tumblr post but I have included the AO3 and FFN (for reading preferences) links either in the original post itself or in the case of my earlier stuff in the reblogs.

Lost And Found

A Learning Opportunity (2 chapters on both AO3 and FFN. They are both on the same post here)

Thoughts Over Tea

Aftermath

Finding The Balance

Little Events (Finished)

Chapter 1: The Dark

Chapter 2: A Decision

Chapter 3: The Coronation

Chapter 4: Proposals

Chapter 5: Changes

Fics Inspired by others:

Villainess Peach and Bowser Jr. (Inspired by the Player One Luigi AU created by Tiny-Prom and Casual-Derg). Please make sure to their blog's and check it out.

Dragonball Fics: The first fandom I have ever written for (and by penname you could probably tell what I read mostly) I have only shared them on FFN and AO3 until now. I was just starting to write fanfiction with the first two so they might be kinda cringe I guess but that's 16 year old me for you haha. gonna embrace the cringe by sharing it on here anyways.

Tournament Day

The Prince Before The Day ( I am never gonna finish that one or go back to it lol)

Bulla's Easter Day

Even when I started making fics I'm still not sure what goes through my mind when it comes to the title or chapter titles its literally the first thing that comes to mind and nothing after that but we will get it one day for sure.

Here's Some WIPs (that's both written and not) you guys can look forward too from me. I'll remove them and add them under the appropriate fic tags once I post them:

Uncle Yamcha fic: It is currently three chapters. The first one is him and Trunks, second is Marron, and the third one is Bra/Bulla. I really want to think of one for him and Goten but nothing has come to my mind. I just think he's more close to Krillin and Bulma where he'd interact more with their kids and I can't think of a scenario for him and Goten or what they would even talk about but maybe something will come. (I've currently sent this off to my Beta for review but lemme know if you guys want to see the un-beta'd version I have on here cause I'm really forward to sharing it)

Untitled EOZ fic following after Goku leaves the Tournament grounds to train Uub. This one sits at about 8k words (not sure exactly cause I added a bunch of notes at the end for my beta to see where my thoughts were going with it all) anyways this one focuses mainly on Trunks, Goten, Marron, Pan, and Bra as really the older kids look forward to what may lie ahead. A lot of it is just me focusing on the dynamics they have with each other. When I saw that dlc for kakorat was going to be focused on that one that really makes me want to share this one. Again let me know if you want to see that.

Based on this Ask here you can already see that I've completed 4 out of my 5 ideas so that leaves the other ones and maybe more if I think of anything else. All of these will probably be added to my Little Events fic. a few little ideas not shared here but I've thought about and have some dialoge in mind but haven't fully created yet.

I want to do something where Mario and Haru interact I just think it'll be so neat.

Maybe something where I do my take on introducing Sarasland and Princess Daisy. Probably along the lines of Peach meeting Daisy for the first time.

I need to hop on the wholesome bros. content at some point and I know I wanna try my hand with Mia and Pio as a part of it.

I think thats it for now...I'll probably add more if I think of something as having somwhere to put it down no matter how small it is can be nice to look at and push me towards getting it done.

[notes-from-sarah]

Kitty's Unexpected Hanukkah Road Trip

Rating: G/K+

Length: 6,700 words

Summary: Kitty is on her way home for the winter holidays when she’s attacked by The Purifiers. When Magneto rescues her she’s not sure she should trust him at first, but as they talk she discovers they share a lot in common. One-shot. Claremont canon compliant.

Link on AO3

Link on FFN

A/N: Takes place at some point after X-Men: God Loves, Man Kills and a few months after The Uncanny X-Men, Issue 150 – I, Magneto where Magneto thinks he’s killed Kitty at the end. Kitty is around 14 years old and her current superhero name in the comics is Sprite.

December 1981

Kitty Pryde swayed methodically from the motion of the train. The ride from New York to Deerfield was a long one, and normally she would enjoy the time to read her comics or listen to tapes on her walkman. She’d even brought spare batteries and headphones, but she wasn’t interested in distracting herself. All she could think about was what home would be like. Her mom and dad had told her they were separating and she was brimming with anxiety over how Hanukkah was going to go. Would they be fighting the entire time? Would they blame her for their divorce? How was the rest of the family going to react? All of these questions swirled in her head and caused her stomach to clench in the most uncomfortable way. She tried to look out the window but there wasn’t much to see in the dark. Fresh snow occasionally hinted at the presence of hills and ravines in the countryside. Trying to calm herself, Kitty closed her eyes and rested her face against the glass of the train window. It was cool against her skin. Kitty focused on the coolness and tried to forget about her anxiety.

Suddenly, the door to the train car blew open with a cloud of smoke and a shower of sparks. People screamed and dove for cover as the door rained through the car in small fragments. Kitty ducked her head, instinctively protecting her face from the debris. Peeking up over her arm to see what sort of threat in particular this was, what she saw chilled her to the bone. Standing in the wreckage were three figures clad in the distinctive metallic armored garb of The Purifiers. Ignoring the screams of the passengers the leader swept the car with a small square device and before Kitty could blink twice the device was pointed at her. Kitty didn’t even hear the shrill beeping coming from the electronic as she jumped to her feet. She was an X-Man, she needed to act.

“Prepare for judgment, demon,” said the man holding the device pointed at her. His two followers silently raised guns, aiming them squarely in her direction.

“You can’t do this!” A passenger clad in a brown camel hair coat stood. She seemed to be over her initial shock. “Put down your guns.”

“If you attempt to stop us, you will join her, demon worshiper.” The leader raised his own weapon, this time pointing to the woman in the camel hair coat.

Kitty glanced at the woman. She could see the fierce protective instinct in the woman’s eye. She wasn’t going to back down. Kitty knew The Purifiers would kill the woman. She had to do something.

So she did.

In the blink of an eye she threw herself backward towards the wall of the train. The Purifiers turned their attention back to her and reacted quickly, but not quick enough. Their fingers only just squeezed the triggers as she phased through the wall of the train, tumbling backward into the dark night.

Skidding, sliding and stumbling down the side of the ravine, Kitty knew she had to get as much space between herself and The Purifiers as possible. Speed was important now, not caution. Throwing herself into a headlong dive she phased through the trees and brush in her path. Head over heels, gravity dragged her to the bottom of the ravine in seconds. With a dull splash, Kitty found herself sitting waist deep in brackish water. Gasping for breath at the shock, Kitty tried to gain her bearings. The fresh snow from yesterday made the area strangely luminous in the dark. It also made her path to the ravine bottom more than obvious. Without waiting for another second to pass, Kitty used her phasing powers to do her walking-on-air trick and ran along the ravine bottom in the opposite direction of the train tracks. Her only hope was to get herself somewhere where she could call the rest of the X-Men. She’d seen what those Purifiers could do to a Mutant who was all alone, and she didn’t want to test if she could beat them in a fight.

The bottom of the ravine twisted and turned every which way. Kitty tried to remember her training, to keep her head calm and do what she knew how. Not leaving tracks was a good start, Logan would be proud of her for thinking of that, but the energy it took to use her powers to run through the air was beginning to drain her. That, and the cold. She was wet and the night air was more than frigid. The jacket she was wearing was no match for real cold. She just had to keep it up a little longer. She knew she could do this, she had to, she had no other choice.

The ravine took a sharp turn ahead of her, and where it turned a bridge spanned from one side to the other. A road! Kitty thought in relief. Roads meant towns, towns meant phones, rescue was within sight. Using every last bit of strength she had, Kitty scrambled up the side of the ravine. The slick snow cover made it necessary for her to use her powers all the way up the side of the steep slope and by the time she crested the hill she was exhausted.

Trembling as shivers wracked her body, Kitty hesitated on the side of the road. Looking up and down it she had no clue where she was, or how far away she might be from any sort of town. She’d been on the train all day but she didn’t have the foggiest idea of approximately where that would put her between New York City and Chicago. Deciding it was better further away from the tracks rather than closer, Kitty turned toward the bridge and began walking.

The road was quiet. Trees grew close to the edge of the rural lane and even though Kitty strained her ears, she couldn’t pick up the sounds of any approaching cars. She also couldn’t see any driveways where a house might be lurking. Just trees and fields. Great, thought Kitty, I’m going to freeze to death out here on the road instead of spending a nice Hanukkah with my parents. If I live through this I’ll try my best not to be mad at them for getting a divorce. Trudging on, Kitty was on the cusp of giving up hope when in the far distance she heard the sound of a car. It was coming up the road from behind her, Kitty could see the headlights flashing through the trees. It seemed to take forever to get close, the car was traveling slowly on the snowpacked road. As the car got closer Kitty stood in the middle of the lane, waving her arms. She didn’t want them to miss her in the dark.

The car came to a stop, it’s lights blinding Kitty. “Hey!” she called out to the car, “I’ve been in an accident and need help.”

The doors of the car opened and three people stepped out. Kitty could hear an electronic beeping, the same beeping from on the train. These weren’t good Samaritans, they were-

“The Purifiers have come to send you back to hell, demon. Kneel, and accept your judgment.” Kitty didn’t need to see to know that the metallic clicking she heard was three guns being trained on her. Fear flooded her brain, she was so tired, she wasn’t sure she was going to survive this. Gulping, she prepared to use what little strength she had to phase one more time. The timing had to be just right or those bullets would hit their mark and she’d be a goner.

“Strange, Purifiers, I was just going to tell you the same thing.” The voice from above was filled with a cold fury and echoed in the still winter air. Kitty and The Purifiers jerked their heads towards the sky. Hovering above them was a helmeted man, a long cloak flowing from his shoulders.

“Magneto!” Kitty breathed. If things weren’t bad enough, now the man who almost killed her a few months ago was joining the fray. Was she ever going to catch a break?

Three guns pointed at the sky, but just as The Purifiers curled their fingers around the triggers, their guns began to disassemble in their hands. Pieces of firearms fell to the road, leaving the anti-Mutant evangelists completely unarmed. “Get in the car!” yelled the one who had been driving, “we can’t fight this one!”

Magneto threw out his hand and The Purifiers seemed to freeze in their tracks. Completely immobilized by the metal in their clothes and armor. Magneto’s lip curled in a sneer. “You take great and righteous pleasure in hunting down a child, but look at you when you have to go against someone who can actually fight back.” Waving his other hand the fallen pieces of the guns stretched into bands and flew around the necks of the attackers. Without so much as a movement from Magneto the bands began to constrict.

Kitty knew he meant to kill The Purifiers. For a long moment she wanted to let him. The anti-Mutants were gasping for breath, their limbs still immobilized by Magneto’s powers. Their eyes rolled in fear as the last of the air was being strangled out of them.

“Stop!” Kitty knew she had to at least try. It’s what Professor X would want. “You can’t kill them.”

Magneto paused, glancing down at her. “These murderers cannot be allowed to live, child. The next time they might succeed in killing you or another defenseless Mutant.”

Kitty knew he wasn’t completely wrong. The Purifiers were ruthless and showed no mercy to anyone. Still, how could she just stand back and watch them die? “There’s got to be a better way. I don’t want anyone to die.”

“Unfortunately, my dear, that’s not the world we live in.” Magneto began descending from the sky, his concentration, however, remained completely intact. “Survival of the fittest sometimes means that blood will be spilled. You cannot ignore a threat just because it’s unpleasant to deal with it.” Alighting on the ground between her and the car, Magneto turned to face her fully.

Kitty had no idea how she was going to convince Magneto to spare the despicable lives of these cultists. Truth be told, she kind of wanted revenge for all they had put her through. The image of Professor X came to mind, all those times he’d told her how important it was to use their powers to make things better, not to exact revenge. Kitty shook her head. “This won’t help.”

“Then what alternative do you propose, my dear?” Magneto’s tone was that of a teacher patiently waiting for you to come to the obvious solution.

“We can tie them up and leave them here. We’ll call the police and tell them what happened. They were attacking me, they’ll probably even admit to it. They can rot in jail where they deserve.” Kitty knew the cult was under scrutiny from the state and the feds. Certainly this would be a slam dunk case and these thugs would be off the streets for good.

Magneto didn’t say anything for a long, long time. He looked at Kitty hard, almost ferociously. It was kind of frightening, but Kitty didn’t look away. She wasn’t scared of him – that much – and she was sure she was right. Only the force of her determination was going to convince him.

“Very well, child. I accept your alternative.” Magneto turned to face The Purifiers. “Kneel, apes, and thank this Mutant child for your lives.”

Kitty was shocked when all three anti-Mutants dropped to their knees mumbling tearful thanks before the bands of metal snaked from their necks to fasten securely around their ankles. Her eyes darted between the pathetic cultists and Magneto. The Mutant stretched his palm toward the pieces of one of the guns that was laying in a heap on the road. The pieces twitched, then jumped into his hand fully reassembled. Twisting his other hand into a fist, Magneto dragged all three cultists to dangle before him in front of the car. The figures hung limply in the car headlights, like puppets from a string. Kitty gulped, not sure where this was going.

“You are being permitted to live, you are not being permitted to hurt another Mutant ever again.” Magneto flicked a finger and the right hand of each anti-Mutant was drawn forward. Tossing the gun into the air, it hung there, supernaturally suspended, the barrel aimed at the outstretched hands. He turned to Kitty. “Get in the car.”

Kitty didn’t want to listen, but she didn’t know what else to do. Magneto seemed to forget about the people he had dangling in the air and went himself to the driver’s side. Kitty wasn’t about to be left here with these murderous creeps, so she dove for the passenger’s side door. Once inside, Magneto used his powers and crushed the electronic device that had been beeping non-stop since The Purifiers had gotten out of their car. Putting the car into gear, Magneto pressed the accelerator and smoothly navigated around the people and the gun dangling over the road.

Kitty was almost afraid to ask, but she couldn’t stop herself. “What are you going to do to those freaks? What’s the gun for?”

“To remind them what it means to go against Mutants whenever they remember why they can no longer pull a trigger,” Magneto pronounced, grimly.

Kitty turned in her seat to see what was going to happen next, but the winding country lane quickly obscured the site of the attack. Only faintly a few moments later did she hear the distant sound of a gunshot. As merciless as The Purifiers were, Magneto was far more ruthless.

After a few more minutes of silence Kitty reached over to turn up the heat in the vehicle. She saw that her movement caught Magneto’s eye. A weird feeling rippled through her. The last time she’d been this close to him he’d zapped her with a bolt of energy that had almost done her in. Did he even recognize her? She wasn’t wearing the outlandish costume she’d had last time. He didn’t seem to know who she was, he was helping her just because she was a Mutant. She wondered if he would have done the same had he known she was an X-Man.

“Where are you taking me?” Kitty pushed the heat lever to max, then did the same for the fan. “Where are we?”

“I’m taking you somewhere you’ll be safe, child.” Magneto seemed to notice that she was cold since all the air vents simultaneously shifted to blow air on her. “I have no idea where we are.”

Kitty looked up at him, eyes wide. “You mean we’re lost?”

“I have complete mastery over magnetism and as such can control the magnetic fields of the entire Earth. I cannot truly be ‘lost’ anywhere magnetism exists. However,” Magneto shrugged, “I’m not entirely sure where we are or where the closest town might be. I don’t usually travel on the ground.”

Kitty blinked. “So, where exactly are we going then, if you don’t know where we are?”

“That entirely depends on you, child. Where were you heading to before those animals accosted you?” Magneto’s blue eyes glanced from the road to her face. Every word he said sounded so confident and assured. It was no wonder he was the X-Men’s greatest foe.

“I was on the train-” Kitty started.

“The train?” Magneto cut in.

“Yeah.” She nodded.

“How did you come to be on the road?” Magneto looked at her again. Kitty was a little worried he wasn’t paying enough attention to his driving.

“I jumped off when those freaks came after me. I didn’t want any of the people on board to get hurt.” Kitty put her hands up to the vents, the car was starting to spill out properly warm air now.

“You didn’t consider that you might be hurt?” Magneto sounded curious.

“Well if I didn��t then somebody woulda got hurt. I don’t think I could live with myself if someone got hurt on account of me.” Kitty looked at her hands for a moment thinking about all the close calls she and her X-Men friends had had. “Besides, I can phase through solid objects, I knew I’d be okay.”

“You are very brave, child.” There was approval in his voice. Kitty would have thought that he wouldn’t have cared.

Still, the compliment warmed her. She sometimes got told things like that from her teammates, but people like her parents or Professor X rarely praised her for bravery, usually they chided her brashness.

“My name is Kitty, by the way.” Kitty realized she hadn’t told him what to call her.

“Short for Katherine, I presume?” Kitty couldn’t quite tell with the helmet obscuring most of his face, but she thought he might have quirked an eyebrow when he asked the question.

“Yeah.” Kitty hoped he wouldn't call her Katherine, she only ever got called that when she was in trouble.

“Well, Miss Katherine, I believe I interrupted you as you were telling me your destination.”

Kitty cringed at the use of her name but tried not to let it show. “Right, anyway, I was on the train to Chicago so I can spend Hanukkah with my folks before those creeps made me take a detour.”

“You’re Jewish?” Magneto slowed the car to look at her.

Kitty tensed. She wasn’t used to dealing with dangerous antisemitism and she really didn’t want to start tonight after all she’d been through. “Yeah, you got a problem with that?” She remembered phasing through Magneto before and causing him harm, she didn’t want to have to do it again.

“No, Katherine, you have nothing to fear.” Magneto reassured, pressing the accelerator once more. “I, too, am Jewish.” There was a slight pause before he added, “Or, I was.”

Something in his voice caught Kitty’s attention. For the first time all evening there was a hint of uncertainty in him. Perhaps even doubt. He was such a commanding presence normally, the uncertainty was a sharp contrast.

“My bubbe says there’s no such thing as a former Jew, it’s a life sentence.” Kitty could feel the cracks forming in her perception of Magneto. She’d never thought of him as anything other than an evil spectre, a villain to be stopped, even some sort of warlord. She’d never considered that he was also a person.

“Is that so?” Magneto gave her an expression that Kitty could only interpret as a pre-smile. His eyes looked at her but it was clear he was far away. “Mine used to say something similar whenever I’d complain about how boring the sabbath was.”

Knowing Magneto had a grandmother was like a hammer that completely destroyed the illusion of Magneto the Master of Magnetism. He wasn’t some faceless monster, he was as human as she was. He had a family, people he loved and cared for. He had feelings. Hell, he probably had a favorite color and flavor of ice cream.

Kitty’s world was spinning out of control.

Turning off the rural lane, Magneto pulled into a gas station. The shop was closed up for the night, but it had a dirty payphone lit by an overhead light out front. Magneto parked the car in front of the payphone. “You should call the authorities and make your report.”

Kitty opened the car door and stood, feeling her pockets. “I don’t got any change.”

“No matter.” Magneto got out of the car and stood by the payphone. Lifting the receiver he tapped the payphone and handed her the handset.

Kitty took it and put the phone to her ear as she grabbed the phone book and flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for. She could hear the dial tone so she punched in the number for the police. The call went through with no prompt for payment. “Bet that comes in handy, not having to pay for calls,” she said. After she said it she realized she might have spoken out of turn. She still couldn’t see Magneto’s face properly and she guessed he was more than likely frowning at her. Man, Kitty, she thought, you really can say some dumb stuff you know.

He didn’t respond but the police picked up. Kitty explained that she’d been attacked and where they could find her assailants. She’d seen the sign for the road they were traveling on and knew The Purifiers were only a few miles away. Shivering as she hung up, she was motioned back to the car by Magneto.

Still reeling from her revelations about the other Mutant, the only thing she could think now was that she wanted to know more. As she settled back into the passenger seat and put her hands back up to the heat vents, she looked at Magneto. “What’s your name? I mean, your real one. I promise I won’t tell anyone.” Mutants, villains, superheroes, monsters, they had names like Magneto, Sprite, Spider-Man. Names they had chosen for themselves to separate themselves from the rest of humanity. People, though, had names. First and last names that showed a connection to other people, to a family and a larger culture.

“Telling hardly matters anyway.” Magneto sounded almost tired. “I have no one my anonymity would protect. As far as the world is concerned, who I am – who I used to be – is little more than a ghost.”

“You don’t have a family?” Kitty could hardly comprehend such a thing. Her mom and dad were her entire world, and the X-Men were a part of her family now, too. Her anonymity as Sprite protected so many people she couldn’t imagine losing.

“Not anymore. Not after Auschwitz.” Magneto’s eyes remained carefully on the road.

The word sent a chill up Kitty’s spine. “Were,” Kitty’s voice was almost a whisper, “were you there?”

“Yes.” Magneto’s voice was calm. What little of his face Kitty could see betrayed nothing.

“And you lost everyone?” Kitty didn’t really need to ask to know the answer. For all the survivors she’d met the story was always the same.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.” Kitty let a silence lapse between them. It felt disrespectful to ask anything more.

Leaving the rural lane, Magneto brought the car onto a larger state route. Kitty wasn’t entirely sure where they were driving to exactly. She guessed maybe a bus station or something.

“My name,” Magneto broke the silence between them at last, “was Magnus.” Taking his hands off the wheel, but still using his powers to drive, Magneto pulled the helmet off his head and set it on the center seat.

Magnus. Such a normal, human sort of name. Something his parents gave him. Something he learned to write at school. Kitty looked at his face properly for the first time. He didn’t seem so scary now.

“My great aunt Rachel, she was at one of those camps.” Kitty didn’t know why she was saying this. “She’s always so mean and angry all the time and Dad says it’s because of that.” Kitty knew she was being overly bold, but she’d always had a big mouth and not enough sense so she pressed on. “Is that why you’re so angry? Is that why you want to hurt everybody?”

Magneto – Magnus – took his eyes off the road to study her for a long moment. “In a way, yes,” he said at last. “But I don’t want to hurt everyone, Katherine, I want to live in a world where no one gets hurt anymore. The world, as it is now, is dead set against such an idea. The only option is to use force.”

“You really think you can do it, make a perfect world where nobody gets hurt?” Kitty and the other X-Men had talked at length about Magneto’s plans after their last encounter. For some reason Professor X kept insisting that Magneto wanted the same thing they did, she never really believed that was true.

“Perhaps not, but someone has to try. If we just sit back and wait for the world to change we will only find ourselves in chains. I’ve seen what happens when you wait for people’s better angels to guide them, it only leads to destruction and death. I have the God-given power to do something this time, so I will do it.” Magnus’ eyes flashed and Kitty could see the passion of his conviction.

“But, aren’t things different now? Don’t we have laws and rights to protect us?” Something about Magnus’ words frightened her, those far away nightmare threats seemed a lot more imminent the way he talked.

“Katherine, I see that you are a smart girl. You know the world is more complicated than good guys and bad guys. When one homo sapien makes a law, it takes only another to unmake it. Whatever they give us they can also take away. We have to take what is ours, with or without their permission.” Magnus held Kitty’s eyes in an almost frightening way, his voice had hardly changed in volume yet it seemed louder and stronger somehow. “And this world, dear Katherine, is ours.”

Kitty gulped, Magnus was throwing her completely off balance. Everything he said scared her, but at the same time didn’t sound that unreasonable either. She wasn’t sure what to think. She wished Professor X was here to help her make sense of it all.

Magnus turned his eyes back to the road. “I can see I am frightening you, child. I did not mean to cause you distress.”

“I’m not scared,” Kitty said, even though it was a lie. “It’s just, well, I’ve never heard someone talk the way you do. Do you really think people, humans, will just turn their backs on us? Even our friends and family?”

“Katherine,” Magnus’ voice assumed a gentler tone, “we must believe this to be the case. To do otherwise would be utter foolishness. I’ve seen it happen before, it can always happen again. Just take a look at The Purifiers. Though they are but few, their ideas are spreading. We cannot afford to be caught unawares.”

“But if they all turn against us, then we don’t have a chance. There’s so many more of them than us.” Panic was starting to bubble up in Kitty’s chest. Professor X had made everything seem so hopeful, like people were generally good and could be trusted. Now the world seemed a lot more dangerous than it had just a few hours ago.

“A chance is precisely what we do have, and I do not intend on wasting it. A fight is coming, Katherine, and whether you like it or not, whether you are ready or not, you will be drawn into it. As will we all.” Magnus turned from the state route onto a larger highway, he seemed not to be looking at the signs at all, just navigating by pure instinct. “Do you know why our people celebrate Hanukkah?”

Kitty was a little taken off guard by the question. “The oil in the lamp at the temple was supposed to burn only one day, but lasted for eight instead.”

“Yes, that is why we light the candles, but why is the holiday celebrated?” Magnus had a way about him that made Kitty think he’d have made a good teacher in another life.

“Um,” Kitty struggled to remember what she’d learned in the religious education classes she’d had to attend before her bat mitzvah, “the Romans, or um, maybe it was the Greeks, they tried to make us stop practicing our religion and took over the temple and when we got it back there was only the one thing of oil.” Kitty cringed internally, she could just see her parents’ disappointment at her lame explanation. She glanced over at Magnus to see if he was similarly disappointed.

Instead of disapproval he was giving her the smallest of smiles. “I never had much of a head for the details of all the stories either. I suppose that’s why we have rabbis. However, the salient points are clear even in your telling. We were attacked by outsiders, oppressed and defiled. That which was most holy was desecrated. Oppressors benefited from our subjugation and had no reason to protect or help us. We had the choice to either fight back, or die.”

Kitty could see where Magnus was going with this analogy. “That was a long time ago.” Even as she said it, the phrase seemed hollow. The future was suddenly very dark.

“Those who don’t learn their history are doomed to repeat it, Katherine. I’ve learned my history, I hope you have too.” Magnus’ tone was fierce and chilled Kitty to her core.

“So, what can we do?” Kitty wasn’t prone to nihilism, but the thought of facing increasing oppression and subjugation for the rest of her life made everything seem so bleak.

“We fight, and we never stop. Not even for a second.” Magnus’ voice was firm, but his expression softened when he looked at Kitty. Apparently her fear was showing on her face. “It seems that I can’t talk to you about this without frightening you. What does Charles say when discussing the state of the world?”

Kitty blinked, thrown for yet another loop. “Charles?”

“You thought I was unaware of your affiliation with Charles Xavier?” Magnus sounded a little confused.

“I, uh,” Kitty didn’t want to admit to anything, but it seemed that the jig was up. “If you knew who I was, why did you help me?”

“I bear no ill will against you, or Charles, or any of the so-called X-Men. I fight for all of Mutant-kind, I do not bear petty grudges over past skirmishes. We must band together if we are to survive. In many ways we are more alike than we are different, child. Someday that will be clear.” Magnus gave her a hesitant look. “I hope you can forgive me for hurting you in our last altercation. It has grieved me these many months thinking that I had harmed you.”

Kitty could hear the regret in his words. She wasn’t sure what she thought anymore. “I’m not sure,” she said truthfully, “Storm said I was as close to death as she’d ever seen. It’s only ‘cause she took care of me that I was able to get better like I did.”

“I am truly sorry. I wish I could make it up to you somehow.” Kitty believed him. Magnus really did feel bad about attacking her all those months ago.

“I suppose saving my life was a good start. I think we might be even now.”

Magnus gave her a small, warm smile. “I can see Charles’ influence on you. You are far more forgiving than I would have been.”

Kitty wasn’t sure quite what to do with that. She was glad that Magnus could see that she was a real X-Man, someone Professor X had taught well. Forgiving wasn’t always easy or in her nature, but she kept trying to remember what Professor X might say. She was trying so hard to be a real hero and have people take her seriously, it seemed like maybe she was getting there.

Traffic around them was thickening up. Kitty caught sight of one of the highway signs and realized Chicago wasn’t too far away anymore. “Hey,” she said “that’s pretty neat, we’re almost home.” As she said that, her original worries from the train came back to her. How was she gonna get through this holiday knowing that her family was all broken apart. Sitting back in her seat she wrapped her arms around herself. She wished Ororo was here to make her feel better.

“Is something wrong, Katherine?” Magnus asked. “Aren’t you happy to be going home?” She guessed her moodiness was obvious.

“It’s not gonna be the same. My parents are getting divorced and it’s just not gonna be the same ever again. It’s like I’m gonna have two separate families instead of one. I don’t know why they can’t just stick together. It can’t be that bad.” Kitty knew Magnus probably didn’t care about her little family problems, but she wanted to tell someone. She was so embarrassed that her parents were splitting up. Why were they being so dumb about this anyway? Couldn’t they just come to their senses and stay together.

“That must be very difficult.” Magnus’ voice was empathetic but shifted into a firm resolve as he said, “But you must be brave in the face of this adversity. You will come through this stronger than steel.”

It wasn’t exactly the sort of pep talk Ororo would have given, but somehow it did make her feel a little better.

“And also,” Magneto added a moment later, his voice softer, “hold on to your family, Katherine. Take not one day with them for granted. Hold them close and don’t be angry at them if you can help it.”

Kitty swallowed. She suddenly wanted to hug her parents tight. Gulping, she asked the question that had been bothering her since her parents told her of the separation. “Do you think they’re gonna blame me for pulling them apart? They used to be so happy together.”

Magnus took the exit for Chicago. All the traffic slowed down as they came into the city proper. “No,” he said. “Your parents must be good people to raise a girl as bright and kind as yourself. Such people would never blame an innocent child for their own incompatibilities.”

His words made Kitty feel a little bit better. She had been worrying about this for what seemed like forever now. She also glowed at the compliments. It wasn’t every day that someone who almost killed you said nice things about you. “It’s gonna be weird, though,” she said at last.

Magnus nodded. “You will have to find a path forward with your parents and yourself. As long as you remember to love and respect each other you will surmount this obstacle and come through this stronger. You are not losing your family, Katherine, it is just growing in a new direction. Growing can be painful, but it is what all living things must do.”

Kitty shook her head to clear it. Those words sounded like they could have come from Professor X himself. Maybe the Prof was right and the difference between the X-Men and Magneto wasn’t all that big after all.

“Where do you live?” Magnus asked, distracting Kitty from her musings.

“Oh, uh,” Kitty looked out the window to try and catch one of the signs they were driving past. “I live in Deerfield, it’s more North of here and not too far from the lake.”

Magnus nodded. “Are there any large metal structures near your house?”

Kitty thought about it. “There’s a TV station not too far away, they have a lot of big antennas there.”

Magnus closed his eyes and seemed to be feeling for something.

“Hey,” said Kitty, “keep your eyes on the road!” She reached out as if to grab the wheel.

“I’m well aware of my surroundings, Katherine. Fear not.” Magnus seemed to be concentrating.

Kitty held her breath, they were going to die. She looked out her window and saw all the cars jostling for space around them. She gulped, clinging to the door handle and wondering if she should put on her seat belt. This close to home and she buys the farm because some guy thinks he can drive with his eyes closed.

Magnus’ eyes snapped open and soon enough he was merging through several lanes of traffic apparently knowing exactly where he was going.

“You’re kinda crazy, you know that?” Kitty didn’t release her grip on the door.

“So I have been told.” Magnus’ voice held a hint of dry humor. “You should not worry, I am in complete control of every particle of metal in my surroundings. Nothing I don’t want can happen.” Kitty believed him, but it still seemed kind of crazy.

Finally, they came into sight of the TV antennas from the station. Kitty knew how to get back to her house from here. “Go left,” she gestured. She stopped and looked at her watch wondering if her parents were at the train station waiting for her. She saw that her watch wasn’t working. It must have gotten fried by the water in that ravine. And it was her new digital watch too. Bummer. She glanced at the dashboard but there was no clock there. “Do you know what time it is?”

Magnus thought for a minute. “Chicago is in the Central Time Zone, is it not?”

“Yeah.” Kitty nodded.

“Then it is about seven o’clock at night.” Magnus thought for a moment longer. “Perhaps closer to a quarter till.”

“How’d you know that?” If he was right then her parents hadn’t left for Union Station yet, her train wasn’t supposed to arrive till closer to nine. Kitty was glad. She was ready to be home and get into some clean clothes and give her mom and dad a hug.

“My powers let me feel the rotation of the Earth, I can approximate time from there.” Magnus shrugged. “Our abilities can let us do so much more than we might realize, all we must do is have a little imagination.”

Again, there he was, sounding like the Professor. Kitty indicated that he should turn right into her neighborhood. “Turn here, my house is at the end of the street.”

Outside her house, Kitty could see a bunch of cars in the driveway and on the street. She saw her grandma’s car and her aunt’s station wagon. That meant the cousins were there too. She bet everyone was having a great time and she could almost taste the doughnuts and latkes.

Magnus pulled the car onto the edge of the street right in front of the house. Shifting the car into park he exited and came around the car to open her door. “As promised, young one, I have delivered you safe to your home.”

Kitty slid out of her seat and shut the door as she exited the car. She was so happy and relieved to be home again her worries seemed to melt away. Mom and Dad and her were going to figure this out and she didn’t know exactly what would happen but she knew it was going to be all right. Her happiness bubbled over and flinging her arms around Magnus’ neck she gave him the type of enthusiastic hugs she usually reserved for her friends. “Thank you so much for helping me.”

Magnus seemed stunned by her effusiveness. Kitty smiled as he relaxed and gave her a brief embrace. He really isn’t so different from the Professor, she thought, it’s too bad he won’t just join us X-Men and fight on our team.

Kitty stepped back, still smiling. “Where are you going to go now?”

Magnus gestured in a general direction away from the city. “I will go where I am needed most to defend Mutant-kind.”

Kitty nodded. She was glad he’d been there tonight to help her. She was pretty sure she’d be a goner if he hadn’t shown up when he did. She glanced at her house. Warm light spilled out the windows filtered by the gauzy curtains in the living room. In the center of the big window stood a lit menorah, the glowing candlelight beckoning her inside. Looking back at Magnus a thought started to grow in her. After everything she’d learned about Magneto tonight, everything they’d talked about, it seemed kind of wrong to just say goodbye out here in the snow. It was Hanukkah, after all, he should have someone to celebrate with.

Reaching out, Kitty took Magnus’ hand. “Come on inside,” she said, “there’s enough latkes for everyone.”

[desceros]

🍓🍄🌸 for the ask game!! uvu

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

well, back when i was growing up in the early 1880s, i was looking for official ocarina of time art. i stumbled across a zelda fanfiction site, and i was like [brain explodes] you can... do that???? i'd been writing things for original works for years but WHOA you can write things.... with things you love already!!!! so i started writing zelda fanfic, but like..... lowkey? until then i discovered the world of ffn right when i got Hella into cyborg 009 and it was OVER

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

rise donnie/camping-chan always return every year back to the cabin, but the last night of their stay, they put up a tent just like that first time. it only takes two years before donnie proposes on the dock, and as a wedding gift donnie buys it and has you open the paper copy of the deed on your wedding night

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

MORE BABIES BE UPON YE

[streakyglasses]

i like shiny things, but i'd marry you with paper rings

“I love you, Chris,” he starts, spurred on by her even nod and gentle smirk. Her heart starts to beat louder in her chest, like her body knows what’s coming, but she doesn’t let her hopes run away with her yet.

part two of darling, you're the one i want

read on ao3, ffn, or under the cut

Their first official date is nothing less than a mess. 

First, both have to push it back for their jobs taking them away for days at a time, then their first choice of restaurant is impossible to get a reservation at, and, when they think they’ve nailed something down, Chris wakes up the morning of with the flu courtesy of her nephew that keeps her out of commission for another week. 

“I’m not counting this,” she mutters in a stuffy voice, barely audible over the drone of her TV. It’s not until she’s asleep with her head in his lap and his hand carding through her hair that he gets what she means. 

When they finally find themselves sitting across from one another, it’s at a diner a few blocks from Street’s house, at almost 9pm. The small TV in the corner is replaying footage of a swat op, colored lines cutting through the tape every few seconds. Their waitress, despite the discerning lack of people in the place, takes fifteen minutes to get their drinks. When she sets them down, the clunk of the plastic on linoleum breaks through their thick silence. 

They’ve known one another for years. They’ve saved each other’s lives more than once. We’ve had sex, they each think. But neither can keep the pressure of perfection from hanging over the table, the rain heavy enough to shutter the butterflies in their stomachs. 

“How was your day?” Chris asks, for what feels like the thousandth time, as her glass sweats onto her hand. Street nods and taps his straw against the table to tear its paper wrapper. 

“Good,” he smiles tightly. “Beat 40-Squad during drills, so that’s always a nice thing to have to hold over them. How was yours?” 

She shrugs. Her eyes fall to his hands, where his nimble fingers are rolling the straw wrapper into a thin band.

“Okay, still a big adjustment. I feel good about it, though.” 

She takes a sip of her water to cover the way her stomach flips, unsure of what to say next. 

“I’m happy for you. Give me your hand.” 

“Why?” She questions. His grin grows and her eyes narrow with suspicion. 

“Just do it.” He goads, needing to cut the tension before it suffocates them both. Rolling her eyes, Chris looks around the dimly lit joint one more time. No witnesses in sight, she slides her right hand over the table to him. 

Street moves her hand so her pointer finger hovers over the band of straw wrapper. Carefully, he wraps the two ends around her finger and ties it off, the small knot on top like where a diamond would sit. His own hand is warm and familiar in hers when he holds her steady so he can rip the extra off without tearing the whole thing. Satisfied with his work, he gives Chris her hand back, and meets her eyes. 

It’s like the clouds over them open up, offering blue sky and warm sunshine that it’s impossible not to relax under. She lets out a light laugh, shaking her head but it’s clear how much she adores him. She puts her hand up to admire his work. 

“I like it.”

------------------

Somewhere between then and now, it becomes a habit. Straw wrappers for everything from smoothies at the pier to SWAT galas and dinners at Paul’s turn into rings. 

Street experiments with how to twist and fold the paper, eventually getting so good at it he can close the knots before sliding the ring onto her finger, and it fits perfectly every time. A rush runs through her whenever he takes her hand to put it on, regardless of where he does. 

Each new addition to the collection gets carried home safely in her jacket pocket. They end up strewn about in the cup holders of her truck or in her backpack, but mostly in her nightstand drawer, little white rings like stars to make wishes on. She doesn’t know if he’s noticed that she’s kept them all, an ever-growing promise that she can’t help but look forward to.

------------------

The restaurant is bustling as Street holds the door open for Chris, transporting them from the sweet smell of late spring air to mouthwatering burgers and thick-cut fries. He runs his hand down her leather jacket to rest on the small of her back as their eyes adjust from the bright sun to the low-yellow lighting and exposed brick walls. Recognizing them, the host offers a smile and has menus in hand before they even reach her. 

“Hey! Glad to have you guys back with us. Corner table alright?” 

With a quick look between them, Chris nods. 

“Perfect, thank you.” 

The three weave around the other tables and servers, eyes drifting from one plate of tantalizing food to the next, until they reach theirs. Menus set down, the host promises to return with water and leaves them with another easy smile. With so many bodies, Chris slides her jacket off to reveal the toned arms that Street fell in love with. She rolls her eyes at how he stares, but he makes no move to do the same with his own jacket, needing to feel the constant weight of the box in his pocket. His heart speeds up just thinking about it. 

“Here you are,” the host says as she sets down two glasses of water and cuts through his train of thought. “Your server will be over in a minute. Enjoy!” 

Street squeezes the lemon into his water, chuckling at how Chris wrinkles her nose, and draws his eyes over the menu. 

“You’re not doing your usual?” Chris teases, though she’s also perusing. “No broccolini?” 

He looks at her like it’s a ridiculous question. She laughs, brushing her foot up his leg under the table. Silence falls between them as they look over the menu, interrupted by a server a few minutes later, obviously stressed from the rush of people. 

“Hi, sorry! What can I get you two to drink?” 

“Iced tea with lemon, please,” Chris says, and is quickly echoed by Street. The server scratches it down. 

“And are we ready to order?” 

Sharing a look, they nod. 

“I’ll do the Whiskey Bacon burger please, medium rare, with broccolini and fries. Thank you.” 

Her eyebrows raise at Street as the server’s eyes swivel over. 

“The All-American please, medium rare, also broccolini and fries.” 

They hand the server their folded menus and he sticks his guest checks back in his pocket, scurrying away. Chris watches him go and then turns back to Street, their bodies settling into the space. 

“How was work?”��

“Calm, actually,” Street says on an exhale, his shoulders still knotted from their last op, which had him tackling a suspect. “Deacon’s helping Sanchez with a private security gig and Tan’s out of town with his mom, so Hicks has us holding down the fort at HQ. Still kicking ass, though.” 

She rolls her eyes but laughs softly at his comment. He’s about to ask how her day was when their server sets down their iced teas and two straws. After opening hers, she gives the wrapper to Street, twinkles in both of their eyes. His heart skips a beat as he undoes his own straw and straightens out the paper. He feels his blood start rushing and reminds himself there’s an entire dinner to get through first, one that he’s been looking forward to for two weeks, and hopes Chris doesn’t notice the slow breaths he takes. 

“I’m sure,” Chris continues. “Helena asked to do dinner at their place the next night you have free, by the way. Or breakfast, whatever works.” 

“So you’re saying I can have another breakfast burger?” Street teases, eyes moving from the paper that he’s expertly folding to Chris’s hands. She grimaces, saying, if that’s what he wants. 

“You and Tomas both with those.” 

He chuckles, and she relaxes into the deep set of his dimples and how the green in his eyes catches in the lighting. She’s content to watch him finish folding the ring, throwing around in her head which finger it’s for. When he’s done, he looks up and straight into her soft eyes, and a warm blush creeps up his neck. 

His gaze drops to her left ring finger and he wants nothing more than to take her hand, but he’s afraid he’ll give himself away so he takes her right instead. It’s exhilarating nonetheless, and the smile Chris gives him could save the world.

“I love you,” he says quietly. It gets lost in the noise to everyone but them. 

“I love you, too. Thanks for the ring.”

------------------

By the time they leave Paul’s, the air has chilled slightly and the periwinkle dusk has been replaced by stars. Chris wraps a hand around Street’s forearm as the door swings shut behind them. 

“You still want to go for a walk?” Street asks, butterflies in his stomach underlined with fear that she’ll say no. The ring in his pocket grows heavier by the second. Looking across the street, down the path that borders the shore, Chris takes a second to feel out her own body, and nods. 

“Lead the way.”

His hand is warm in hers as they fall in step with each other. The crosswalk changes and they find themselves on the other side of the street, the gentle crashing of the waves and their own footsteps is all they hear. It’s a silence neither ever thought they’d be used to living in, let alone with someone else, but Chris focuses on the constant brush of Street’s thumb over hers, and he keeps his on keeping his breathing steady. 

“Chris?” He asks, once they’re so far down the walk that there’s no other souls around and the restaurant is nothing more than a blip of light behind them. Nerves sit on his voice, and she stops walking but doesn’t drop his hand. 

“Yeah? You okay?” 

“Yeah,” he promises with a nod, his grip on her tightening as his other hand closes around the box in his pocket. He looks away from her and over the horizon, trying to memorize the shape of the world and how it was never this clear before her. Thinking about every moment they’ve spent together, good, bad, and otherwise brings tears rushing to his eyes. 

“Street?” Chris whispers, concern in her irises and her free hand cradling his cheek so he has to look back at her. “Talk to me. What’s going on?” 

Laughing in disbelief and gratitude, he shakes his head small to try to dry the tears, and looks down at their interconnected hands before finding her eyes. 

“Nothing, really. Well, something, but—”

Stopping himself, Street grounds himself in the rise and fall of his shoulders through a 4-count inhale and an 8-count exhale. He takes the ring out of his pocket, but keeps it tight in his fist so she doesn’t notice just yet. 

“I love you, Chris,” he starts, spurred on by her even nod and gentle smirk. Her heart starts to beat louder in her chest, like her body knows what’s coming, but she doesn’t let her hopes run away with her yet. 

“I’ve loved you since I don’t know when. Maybe it was the first day we met, maybe it was during one of the million times that you saved my ass or helped me when you had no reason to, but I know now, at this moment, I love you. I’m always going to love you. You keep me safe, you make me a better person.”

Tears start rolling down his cheeks faster, some wiped away by Chris’s thumb, and he makes no move to stop them. She feels tears start to gather in her eyes, too, her teeth finding her bottom lip to keep her from speaking too soon. The instinct to take a second of her own to look around hits her and she follows it without question. Waves churn beneath her, but the ground they’re standing on is solid in more ways than one. The metal on his jacket shines underneath the streetlamp, his cheeks red and his lips pink. Glancing down, she sees the almost-translucent ring of paper around her right pointer finger, and can’t stop the teary-laugh that escapes. He waits for her to find him again, clearing his throat.

“You—You’ve given me a life that I never thought was possible. A life that I never want to stop living. Will you please—”

He stops, dropping her hand so he can open the box with both of his, afraid he’s shaking so much that he’ll drop it. She takes a small step back to give him room as he starts to kneel. When he fumbles with the box again, she steadies him with a hand on his wrist, nodding before he’s even started talking again. 

“Will you please marry me?” 

Her heart pounds loud and high in her chest. It feels like she’s flying, and she’s not scared of crashing. Her tears blur her vision and the streaks of light make it hard to actually see the ring, but the moment goes so fast it doesn’t matter. Street’s pulling the ring from its velvet bed and sliding it onto her ring finger as she answers. 

“Yes!” She exclaims, nodding harder. The second he’s back on his feet, she pulls him to her, hands splayed over his face and jaw so their lips can meet in a salty, passionate kiss that feels as familiar to them as breathing. His arms wrap around her shoulders to hold her closer, and she nuzzles into his neck when they have to part for air. 

With Chris in his arms and his pocket notably lighter, Street feels his pulse start to return to its baseline, the anxiety and anticipation of the last few hours replaced by a golden warmth spreading through him that he wants to bottle up. 

“I love you,” Chris murmurs. It brings him out of his thoughts, and her lips are on his again not a second later. This kiss is slower, their bodies syncing up and drawing out every inch of connection between them. Her lips turn into a smile against his. A fire starts hot and wild in his core, sure the same light is blazing in Chris when he sees the look in her eyes. 

“You want to head home?” He asks. It feels more permanent saying it now, though, and he never wants to get tired of it. A blush comes over her at his tone, nothing but excitement and hunger and affection, and she nods, still catching her breath.  

“Yeah. Home,” she trails off, glancing back to take in the walkway and the moon one more time. 

-------------

After, Street’s pressing a trail of kisses up Chris’s shoulder and neck, eliciting a laugh that turns into a moan. Covering his hand that rests on her stomach with hers, she squeezes to make him stop, so he nuzzles into the nape of her neck instead. Her left arm is stretched out in front of her, the ring shining under the light of her bedside lamp, and Street’s lashes brush over her skin when he opens his eyes to look, too. 

“I want the box,” she whispers, feeling him shrug behind her. 

“Of course. Right now, or?” 

“No,” she stops him, tone light. “I just want to keep it in my nightstand drawer.” 

His eyes narrow and she turns her head over her shoulder to look at his face. Smiling, she drops his hand and reaches over to open the drawer, pulling him up to look at it. The collection of the straw-wrapper rings she has, the newest addition from tonight swept from the nightstand into the drawer, makes his heart swell. Some are yellowed or frayed with time, others are smushed, but it’s impossible to tell at first glance how many there even are. She feels a hot tear on her shoulder and turns over to face him completely, barely any space between their bodies. 

“I didn’t know you kept all of them,” he confesses. She shrugs, traces her eyes over his face until her nerves settle back into themselves. 

“I felt like they’d be important one day, I guess.” She says in a soft voice. “Whenever I’d look at them, I’d think of right now. Or something like it,” she adds quickly at his growing, cocky grin. 

“I’m going to wear the real one, obviously, but promise you won’t stop making me these, either?” 

Kissing her softly, he brushes a hand down her face. 

“I promise. You’ve got a lifetime of those. Maybe you can even make me one for the wedding.”

A bright laugh escapes her. Time seems to have slowed down around them, letting these beautiful moments hang on forever, and she moves even closer to him. Her breath is hot on his skin. 

“Maybe I will.” 

[takadasaiko]

A Flicker of Light Chapter Twenty-Four

Story Summary: A canon divergent AU in which Luke Skywalker is raised within the Empire to be either his father's heir as a Sith Lord… or his replacement.

Chapter Summary: Mara confronts Luke about his time on Jedha and Palpatine makes an unexpected power play.

FFN II AO3

She had been moving through a fog of questions whose answers only produced more questions. The Alderaanian security in Organa's ship hadn't taken Mara long to bypass once she'd dealt with the angry little droid. She'd hoped to find communications with known rebel cells or perhaps dealings with other connected individuals that the Empire suspected, but hadn't found proof against yet. What Mara hadn't expected was an encrypted communication with an old Corellian freighter. One that she herself had been on.

She'd followed the threads of information because that was her job. Unravel the senator's lies.

From Jakku she had found that the Millennium Falcon had landed on Jedha. She'd moved carefully from there, only barely talking herself out of physically going to see if she might catch them. She wouldn't. Her instincts told her she wouldn't, so she had to rely on sources on the ground.

There were plenty to choose from, she found, and more secrecy surrounding a project there than she would have expected for yet another dust ball planet. It took her time to track down a contact she could trust - time she spent moving back towards the Core - and she had been just hours away from Coruscant when the vid was transmitted.

Sand kicked up by wind left the images grainier than they would have been otherwise and some angles were entirely useless. She caught sight of a golden protocol droid first, then the petite princess second, a tall figure that she was certain was Solo, and a smaller man next to him. He had a hood pulled up around his face, the sand-coloured cloak leaving her blind at most angles. Then he turned and she caught a glimpse of his face.

For just a moment, Mara Jade had forgotten how to breathe.

It was possible that Luke was simply on a mission for the Empire, though something deep inside of her whispered that wasn't true. The fact that there'd been some kind of accident at a classified dig site on Jedha in the time he'd been there was either a very strange coincidence or he had helped the Rebel princess destroy an Imperial mining facility. As little as she believed in coincidences, she might have tried that day just as she knew she'd been trying for years now. All those moments - the early morning questions about leaving to all of the times he'd spoken as if his father and she were his only true allies within the Empire they all supposedly served - and the actions surrounding them. Padme Amidala's sister and the Rebel pilot he'd asked Mara to release for saving his life. Even the more recent incident of the intelligence they'd been after and that had been lost along with what should have been two high-level prisoners.

There were too many coincidences, and if she'd been tracking down these threads of information linked to anyone else, it wouldn't have taken her nearly this long to come to the truth. Luke had betrayed the Empire.

And Palpatine would kill him for this.

If he knew. Only if he knew.

By the time Mara's boots met the permasteel where she'd landed on Coruscant, a plan had formed. Those same boots carried her into the palace, through winding halls, and to the large doors the Red Guard opened for her. She steeled herself and her resolve, refusing to think of those three dangerous and unspoken - at least on her side - words that might be the death of her if this went wrong.

Mara felt the beckoning even before she heard her master's voice. "Come, child. What news of Leia Organa do you bring?"

I love you, Luke had said. I'll protect you.

It wouldn't be enough to simply look the other way this time, not if she wanted him to live. And Mara couldn't - wouldn't - imagine a galaxy without him. She could protect him.

"My Emperor," she greeted, bowing lowly. "I tracked the Senator's movements to the planet Jedha. The lies you spoke of were more dangerous than we thought."

They spoke, and Mara reported the half-truths as confidently as if it had been the whole. He waved her through points he cared little for until she reached the dig site. Mara admitted to not knowing why the site was important, but the princess' arrival, the timing of explosion, and her exit left her at the right place at just the right time while she'd received high-confidence reports that she'd been seen with Jedi sympathizers while there.

"And where is the Senator now?"

"I put a tracer on her ship. Its trajectory was taking it towards Alderaan."

"You've done well, my child," Palpatine said, those Sith-gold eyes peering out from beneath his hood. "Very well indeed."

With the dismissal she turned, pushing back at the guilt. It wasn't as if the princess was innocent, but she'd never knowingly shifted blame in her time serving as the Emperor's Hand. She'd served with honestly and dealt fairly until it was his life on the line.

There was no fair outcome with the choices Luke had made, and now she'd find out why.

With each step, the rage built. She kept a careful lid on it through the halls and finally to his apartment that he'd slipped out of to go on a treasonous trip with a princess. She waited. And waited. If her calculations were right, it'd be close to morning before he sauntered in there. Going back to her own quarters would have been a waste of time, though. There'd be no sleeping until she had answers.

The sun wasn't quite peeking up at the horizon when the door finally slid open and the lights motion-triggered lights snapped on at his entrance. She felt the briefest flash of surprise for him, even as he covered it with a smile. "Hey, Mara."

She should have played him. Led him down the path and let him hand her the information she needed. It was a tried and true method - one that he knew well as both an observer and a co-interrogated over the years - but that would be as pointless as his attempt to act so utterly nonplussed by her presence when he returned. "Luke," she greeted tightly. "How was Jedha?"

His façade broke with the question, surprise flashing across his features. He didn't deny it. Instead he stood there, blue gaze studying her and she felt the barest probes against her mind. She shut him out. Hard.

Luke raised his hands, palms outward in mock surrender. "I'm just trying to get a feel if I need to be ready for the Red Guard or not."

So much for keeping a cool head. The anger exploded faster than she could keep control of it and it physically pushed Luke back against the door as she burst to her feet. "You bastard," she hissed, her voice low and dangerous, and she gave him an intentional shove for good measure. "I have always been on your side. Through every questionable action and every treasonous murmur, I've kept it to myself. For you. To protect you!" She watched the words slice through him like a lightsaber. Good. He could feel a fraction of what she was feeling right now. "And then you go behind my back with her and you betray everything we've helped build!"

The words hung in the air between them and Luke loosed a soft breath. "I was trying to protect you."

"Look where that's gotten us."

He flinched at that and moved further into the apartment. He was limping, the bad break of his leg in the final stages of healing, but clearly overused on his little adventure. She watched him as he made his way slowly past the couch, shrugging his cloak from his shoulders to toss over the back of it and unclipping his lightsaber from his belt. He set it down on the table and took a heavy seat, toeing his boots off as he did. There was a long and heavy silence, her rage mixing with his indecision. He pursed his lips together and, finally, turned to look at her. The next words rang in her mind rather than out loud.

Is it safe?

"Of course it is. I used a loop on the listening devices."

He nodded, accepting that without further question, though it didn't alleviate the deafening silence as quickly as she would have anticipated.

"I know how you feel about him and about his Empire," he started slowly, his voice soft. "I know how you see him."

Mara crossed her arms where she stood. "He raised me. Trained me."

"I had to be careful. Not just for me, but for you. He's more dangerous than I think even you know, but….he's the closest thing to a father you can remember." It wasn't an accusation or even a simple statement of fact. There was something deeply personal in his words, and as he continued, Mara felt her chest tighten. "I know that asking you to choose isn't fair."

"Then don't." The words escaped her despite the pang of guilt. Wasn't that the task Palpatine had given her: force Luke to choose between his own father and the Empire? Or, perhaps a bit more realistically: between her and his father. She'd pushed it as far as she could because she didn't want him to have to face that pain. Choosing to be Palpatine's apprentice rather than his father's would be the most difficult decision he'd have to make, but what decision was there, really? The Emperor Saw things in a way few others could. Even Luke wasn't capable of seeing the future as Palpatine did. If the Emperor wanted him, he'd Seen it, and that meant it would come to pass. That, or he'd no longer be alive to fulfill that destiny.

"Mara," he breathed her name like his world was ending. "You don't know what I do about him."

She wasn't sure when she'd crossed the space between them, but she was close enough to lean down and press her lips against his. He reached up, finger tracing against her cheek and she didn't move away even as they parted. "If you go, he'll kill you. I can protect you here."

"And where will that get us?" he murmured similar words to her own spoken just a few minutes before. His eyes flickered up and his gaze held hers. "If we can't leave, we're not free."

"You could choose to stay. With me. I believe in the future we're building." She would find a way to help protect Vader if that was the way to keep him there. She could convince Palpatine to let him live.

"And if you didn't?"

"What do you mean?"

"Let me show you what he's built - what he plans to do. If you still believe in what the Empire has become…."

"You'll let this go?"

"Yes."

She nodded, feeling no true relief in it. But there was hope that they could put this behind them. That had to count for something.

—-

If he thought he'd get away with it, he would have taken his time putting a plan together. Quiet, subtle moves that would ensure that he and Mara were the only people of note that would have known they were there.

But Luke knew he didn't have that kind of time. Less than a full rotation later he'd secured a shuttle and hoped that he'd sense the danger in a more concrete way than the anxiety that was quickly taking up residence if any real trouble lay ahead. He had no choice now. No time to wait for the perfect moment. Mara had to understand why he was making the moves he was making and she'd have to see the corner he was backed into. If she didn't… Well, he didn't know what would happen. She wouldn't leave, that was for certain, but he also wasn't certain that she'd turn him in, despite his immediate questions. More likely she'd get caught in the middle and get herself killed. No. That wasn't right either. If she stayed, he would be the one responsible for getting her killed.

Which left him with little time and a lot of urgency.

He'd gathered what he needed and had clipped his lightsaber to his belt as he started out of his apartment. The doors slid open to reveal two red-clad guards. Luke could feel their gazes on him from behind the masks and he forced the surprise firmly behind a mask of irritation. "Yes?" he snapped, even if he knew they wouldn't - perhaps even couldn't - give him a verbal answer. Instead one motioned and they both turned. The message was clear with or without words. The only reason the Red Guard would come unbidden to his rooms was if Palpatine himself had sent for him. Great. Just great.

As they walked silently down the empty halls, Luke pulled on every lesson he'd learned over the years to bury his thoughts and feelings and fears as deep as they would go. By the time they reached the throne room he was the outward picture of calm, and not even the Emperor would know what had been spinning through his mind for the last rotation. The doors swished open and Mara straightened just a little from her place next to Palpatine. Her presence wasn't abnormal, and not necessarily a cause for concern, but seeing his father standing there without even knowing he was on planet was enough for a flicker of surprise to make it through the calm.

And in turn, a satisfied look flashed through Palpatine's shrouded, gold eyes as he turned that strange gaze on Luke. "Ah. Young Lord Natus," he greeted.

Luke wasted no more time dropping to a knee by way of greeting, his own blue eyes focused on the dark permasteel beneath him.

"Rise, my boy. I trust the medical staff has taken good care of you."

"Yes, my emperor," he answered easily, pulling a chuckle from the old husk of a Sith as Luke straightened.

"Your father too holds little regard for them." Interesting. Palpatine wanted him to know that he knew how little the younger Skywalker thought of Coruscant's best. But did he know that Luke had slipped out and where he'd been? Force knew there were layers to every word he uttered. It kept people guessing as to just how far his visions took him, just how much he Saw, and if they could truly get something past him. Just because he hadn't been hauled out for the first public execution didn't mean that he was in the clear. Or Mara. Or his father.

"I fear I don't have the patience for medical staff in general," Luke answered and that seemed to amuse his father's master.

"Or for protocol."

Luke found gold eyes focused on him and he felt his father touch his mind over their bond, looking for what this might all be about.

Palpatine's focus remained solely on Luke though. "Did you not think I would discover that you have been making moves to undermine Grand Moff Tarkin?"

There it was. He had two choices: grovel and beg for forgiveness or stand firmly by his decision, protocol be damned. Not that anyone in his position would have been fool enough to choose the former. Few found forgiveness from the Emperor.

Luke squared his shoulders and tilted his chin a little higher. "Tarkin's own hubris was delaying your weapon, my Emperor." Palpatine motioned for him to continue as he studied him intently. Any word could land him in an early grave and everyone in the room knew it. "He wants the credit for a project that he doesn't have the technical knowledge to scrape the surface of what's been created. Krennec knows that, and knows that once the project is done that Tarkin would toss him away for the glory."

"But not you?"

Luke shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage. "I convinced him that I see his worth. He'll complete the weapon with confidence that he'll receive assignments following its completion."

"And if he does not?"

"The decision is ultimately yours, my Emperor. My intention was simply to move a project that Tarkin had stalled forward."

Palpatine flashed a smile of rotten teeth and nodded. "Good. Very good," he offered. "Come closer, Natus. Lord Vader."

The two men moved closer and Luke caught Mara's gaze very briefly. She didn't seem to have any more insight than he did.

One thin, bony hand reached out and a Red Guard approached, setting a device down for all to see. As the robed figure moved away, Palpatine's fingers twitched and the device whirled, an image leaping up from it to show the bridge of the Death Star. Tarkin stood waiting, Krennec sulking behind him, but it was the scientist that the Emperor spoke to. "Director Krennec, Lord Natus speaks very highly of the weapon you have built for me. Are you prepared to prove its worth?"

A startled expression was shared by both the Moff and Science Director, but the latter stepped forward, bending in reverence as he spoke. "At your command, my Emperor," he answered, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

"You may fire when ready."

The image flickered out to provide the same view the Death Star showed through its own viewing port, giving all four in the throne room a clear view of the planet Alderaan. Luke felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

"You seem ill at ease, Lord Natus," Palpatine said quietly.

Luke clamped down on his emotions with everything he had in him. Not only did his, his father, and possibly Mara's life depend on it, but Leia and her adopted family's too. "Confused, my Emperor," he answered. "Half of the palace is furnished with goods exported in large part from Alderaan and the minerals found in their forests are used to power comms and control panels across the galaxy. Not to mention how much of the trade moves through their ports. Destroying the planet -" he felt Mara tense at the phrase - "would throw entire systems out of balance."

"Adjustments can always be made. They are far from irreplaceable."

"Forgive me. I'm just… trying to understand why Alderaan specifically was chosen." He tried not to cringe as the crew on the Death Star counted off the steps until utter destruction.

"Of course. You have been healing from your injuries," Palpatine murmured in a way that left Luke questioning if the Sith believed that or not. "Their young senator has been discovered as a traitor. An example will be made of her with the very weapon she'd hoped to cripple." He turned to Mara as if she'd spoken to him through their connection. "Billions may die to save trillions more, my child," he answered her out loud.

Luke opened his mouth to argue - to beg, if that's what it came to, but the firing sequence commenced, and if the thought of it had felt like a punch, the act sent him reeling. Billions of voices screamed out through the Force and for a fraction of a moment he could feel all of them. The utter terror ripped through him like lightning, burning through his veins and threatening to shatter his heart. And then nothing. Billions of lives snuffed out on the word of one man.

And now the whole galaxy knew what Palpatine was capable of.

Focus, his fathers voice broke through the all-engulfing silence and Luke swallowed down the bile in his throat. When he looked up, he found those thin lips spread wide to show off rotting teeth while Sith-gold eyes bore in as if their owner was looking to take hold of his very soul.

Luke's fingers twitched at his side, his lightsaber tugging lightly on his belt. He had the element of surprise. If he moved fast enough, he could kill him.

"Good," Sidious murmured, closing his eyes and breathing deeply as if he were inhaling a scent. "Your rage, their fear….. Let their cries fuel you until you no longer hear them. I have Seen how strong they will make you."

Surprise pulled him to the outer edges of his murderous rage. "You Saw this?"

"Of course, my boy. There's nothing I do not See."

And then he lost it. The element of surprise along with the drive to act on it. Instead he felt only pain and he turned, not bothering to wait for a dismissal as he stormed out.

Just before he hit the door he heard Palpatine speak. "Let him go. You've done well in raising him, Lord Vader. He will be…"

What the Emperor Saw him to be didn't matter. Nothing did. His sister was dead and his father or he would be next. There was no stopping Palpatine now. They had lost.

—

There are no fair trials in Palpatine's Empire. That was what Los had said to her. He's been so certain that she'd been fool enough to assume that a Rebel had fed him a plate full of lies to turn him. She'd never dreamed that he could be right.

But Leia Organa hadn't received a trial, only an execution along with billions that had dared to share a planet with her. If she hadn't seen the Death Star's capabilities and hadn't witnessed her master's command, she wouldn't have believed it. She wasn't sure she agreed with the way Luke had gone about this, but she was starting to understand the reason behind it at the very least.

It was everything she could do to remain where she was after Luke left the throne room. The Emperor continued to shower Vader with praise for his son's actions in supposedly pushing his project forward to completion. Both would be rewarded, of course. They would be reassigned to the Death Star to ensure that they had everything that they needed to continue. Whatever Luke and the Organa girl had destroyed on Jedha didn't seem to phase Palpatine's expectations. Everything was moving forward… just as he's foreseen it.

Mara wasn't dismissed with Vader, much to her frustration. She buried it down and didn't dare allow her mind to wander — either to what she'd seen or what that truly meant.

"You have done well, my child," Palpatine said once they were alone. "Young Natus' trust in you grows by the day. The time has come to make use of that." Gold eyes slipped closed for a long moment. "Should he stray, it will surely mean his death."

She took a moment, weighing her words carefully. "You seemed… pleased, my master. With his anger towards you."

"Do you think that Lord Vader always followed my commands without doubt? Such loyalty is forged through trial and fire."

Mara swallowed the questions born out of his answer, nodding instead.

"And until he has reached true loyalty to me, he will have you to guide him. Go."

The sudden dismissal added a bit of surprise to the fear his predictions brought, but she didn't dare linger.

—-

The Senate chamber was empty, just as he'd known it would be. The silence weighed heavy on the large room that had once been the center of galactic democracy. From what he knew - from what Leia had told him - few Senators had attended the sessions in recent years. Luke wagered even fewer would now. Palpatine had never cared to hear the will of the people he ruled over, but until now he'd needed a clever way to keep them in line. For those willing, he bought off their representatives with lavish homes and expensive gifts. For those less willing, well… that's what he, his father, and Mara had been for. To dispense Imperial Justice. But with the Death Star not only operational, but on open display… no one would dare go against him for fear that they'd cost the lives of an entire planet. The Rebellion was essentially over, as was any hope Luke had had to escape with the people he loved.

A familiar flicker in the Force warned him of Mara's approach. Luke didn't bother to look back, but instead ran his fingertips along the dusty permasteel of the pod that hadn't been used in some time now. Anger flashed through him, twisting up with guilt and helplessness that were both much less useful to him, but seemed determined to burrow deep into his chest. His fingers tightened as she stepped closer. "Now's not the time," he bit out.

"Luke…"

He spun, his words clawing up his throat and off his tongue before he could stop them. "What did you think he'd do, Mara? Arrest her? Put her on trial?"

"I didn't think he'd kill an entire planet with her," she murmured. She was still in shock. Still reeling. Luke didn't care.

"She was my sister!"

Green eyes blinked in confusion. "What?"

"My sister," he repeated, his own voice threatening to break. "We were separated when we were born. I don't know the details, but I know who she is. Was." He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to swallow back his emotions.

"I… had no idea."

"Would it have changed anything?"

"It would have made more sense."

He snorted. "What did you think it was, Mara?"

There was a beat before she answered. "I did what I could with the information I had. It was her or both of you, and you're not the only one that gets to protect the people you love."

The confession took a moment to break through the next sharp retort that was piecing together in his mind. She loved him. He'd known it even if she never actually said it, but he couldn't even revel in it now. Instead of joy, all it did was deflate his anger and leave him feeling hollow and exhausted. He caught her gaze and saw fear tangled up with her own flared temper.

Somewhere below, one of the lower chamber doors opened, the sliding door scraping across the permasteel with an unmaintenanced squeak. Luke loosed a breath. "I know," he admitted after a long, tense moment. "But right now I have to go find a way to tell my captain that his family, friends… his entire planet was just destroyed. By us."

He turned to make his way down to the lower levels and Mara caught his wrist, but she couldn't seem to say whatever it was she'd stopped him to say. So he leaned in, pressed a brief kiss to her forehead, and squeezed her hand. "I love you too. I just need time."

Mara nodded and released him to move towards a conversation he wasn't even sure that he knew how to have.

----

TBC

Notes:  This took a bit different turn than I expected at the end of the last chapter, but I'm glad it did. It's funny, while I know where this story is going, I can't always predict how it's going to get there. Makes it fun ;) 

Next Time: Luke and Vader find themselves under scrutiny overseeing the Death Star project while Mara makes a discovery that will change the course of their lives.

[jrob64]

Pet for Rent, Chapter 1/4 (The Meet Cute) A CS Modern AU Story

For those of you who read "Sowing Seeds of Trust", you might remember that my dog Zeke had a starring role in it. To my great heartbreak, he died of cancer last June. When we rescued him, the shelter had named him Ernie, and he will be referenced with that name in this story.

Life without a dog proved to be very lonely, so at the end of August, we rescued another dog. The sad story of the dog in this story is what really happened to our new dog. He was named Norman and we renamed him Winston, just like in the story. That's actually him in the pic set with his 'ducky'.

This was supposed to be a short, sweet story, but somehow turned into 4 chapters. Updates will be once a week.

Special thanks to my beta @hookedmom and also to @beckettj and @zaharadessert for helping me understand the football (soccer) system in England.

SUMMARY: Emma Swan tries to cheer up her heartbroken son by 'renting' a dog from the local animal shelter. When she attempts to do it a second time, she makes a mistake, and realizes the dog has been rented by someone else the same day - a very handsome man named Killian Jones.

RATING: M (for smut in the last chapter, which can easily be skipped if that's not your thing)

WORDS: 7754

ALSO POSTED TO A03 & FFN

Story begins under the cut

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma Swan flopped down onto her sofa with a sigh. Since their beloved dog Ernie died three weeks ago, she had come to dread her eight-year-old son Henry’s bedtime. Every night when he said his prayers, he ended with, “God, please tell Ernie I love him and miss him, and please send me another dog. Amen.”

Her son knew the chances of getting a dog were slim to none because of his soccer practices and games, and Emma’s schedule for her new job at the sheriff’s station. They had no time to train a puppy.

Understanding why he couldn’t have a dog didn’t make his heart hurt any less. Her heart was just as broken, knowing the sadness and loneliness Henry was experiencing.

After decompressing for a few minutes, Emma’s searching hand located her phone on the end table. She unlocked it and opened her Discord app, selecting the icon representing the parents’ group of Henry’s second grade class. Sitting up a little straighter, she typed a message: Does anyone have ideas of how to help Henry get over the loss of his dog? He keeps praying for a new one, but it wouldn’t be fair to the dog to get one with our busy schedule.

She watched the screen intently for a couple of minutes, but when no names appeared to show that someone was answering, she tossed the phone onto the couch and went into the kitchen to load the dishwasher.

Forty minutes later, after cleaning up the kitchen, going through her nightly routine and changing into her pajamas, she went back into the living room. Television held no interest for her, and realizing she finished her last library book the previous evening, she picked up her phone to mindlessly play a game. Upon unlocking it, her screen opened to the Discord page and she saw three replies to her question.

The first two simply expressed sympathy for the loss of Ernie, but the third one offered a helpful suggestion. Have you thought about ‘renting’ a dog for a day? The animal shelter just outside of town offers that option. We did it for my mother when her Maltese died. The post ended with the web address for the shelter.

Emma immediately pulled up the site and, after searching the homepage, clicked on the tab for ‘services’. Scrolling down the list, she saw ‘Rent-a-Pet’ and selected it. As she read the description of how the program worked, she idly twisted strands of blonde hair around her index finger.

It sounded like a great compromise for their situation. For a donation to the shelter in the form of money, bags of pet food, treats or toys, one of the available animals could come home with them for several hours. The dogs and cats were guaranteed to be docile and house-trained, and could be adopted by the ‘renter’, if desired.

Clicking on the link taking her to the bios of the pets currently housed at the shelter, she filtered it to include only canines. Pictures of nearly two dozen dogs filled the screen, each more adorable and aww-worthy than the last.

Quickly ruling out any that were guaranteed to shed fur all over her house or were bigger than her son, her search was narrowed to nine prospects. She knew her rambunctious son would be keen to play outside with the dog and walk him or her to Storybrooke’s dog park, so a tiny fru-fru pup was out of the question, too. That left six.

She selected one at a time, reading about their breed and temperament. When she brought up the picture of the fourth candidate, the big, chocolate brown eyes and happy expression nearly made her heart melt.

‘Norman’ was a mixed breed and very little was known about him, because he was found tied to a stop sign in the middle of Portland, Maine. He was guessed to be a cocker spaniel mix and was approximately 1-2 years old. His black fur looked sleek and Emma knew he probably wouldn’t shed. A short video showed him romping and playing with another dog in the fenced play yard of the shelter.

Saving the page, she brought up the calendar on her phone and checked their schedule for the rest of the week. Henry had an early soccer game on Saturday, which would be over by 10:30, leaving the rest of the morning and afternoon free. Switching back to the shelter website, she hit the ‘Rent-a-Pet’ button again and began filling in the information, selecting ‘Norman’ when it gave her the choice of animals.

She decided not to tell Henry about the plan, opting to surprise him with it instead.

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“Great game, kid,” Emma complimented her son, ruffling his sweaty hair. “Your pass to Avery was a nice assist. That goal turned out to be the game winner.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Henry grinned around his mouthful of granola bar. “That’s the first time all season we beat the orange team.”

“I know, and I think that calls for a celebration, don’t you?” Emma fished her car keys out of her jeans pocket, before picking up her lawn chair and water bottle.

“Are we gonna get ice cream?” he asked, before cramming the rest of his snack into his mouth.

“You just ate a granola bar and a banana, and lunch will be in just an hour or so,” she laughed. “I have something else in mind.”

“Whaisit?” he queried, the unswallowed food muffling his voice.

“Well, I know how much you miss Ernie, and Violet’s mom told me about a program at the animal shelter that lets you rent a pet for a few hours,” she answered slowly, watching his reaction out of the corner of her eye. “So, I signed up to get a dog for you to play with until three o’clock this afternoon.”

Henry stopped in his tracks, swallowing down the rest of his snack as his eyes grew wide. “Really? You can do that?”

“Yeah, we’re scheduled to pick him up at eleven. What do you think about that?”

His exuberant shout of joy and sprint to the car was all the answer she needed.

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Emma couldn’t keep up with her son once he unstrapped his safety belt, exited the car and bounded toward the front door of the shelter. He was already ringing the little bell on the counter for service before she made it inside and chided him lightly for not waiting for her.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with sandy hair and light blue eyes entered through a door, the barking of dogs stifled when it clicked shut behind him. He gave them a dazzling smile and greeted them warmly with a hearty ‘good morning’.

Emma reached forward to shake his hand. “Hi, I’m Emma Swan and this is my son, Henry.”

“David Nolan,” he responded, shaking her hand, then doing the same with Henry.

“My teacher’s name is Mrs. Nolan, the same as yours,” the boy told him.

“You wouldn’t happen to be in second grade at Storybrooke Elementary, would you?” David asked.

“Yeah,” Henry confirmed.

“Ah, well, that means your teacher is my wife!”

“Wow, cool!” Henry exclaimed. “She’s the best teacher I ever had!”

David’s grin grew even wider. “That’s good to hear. She tells me all about her students every evening and she thinks yours is the best class she’s ever had!”

“It’s quite a coincidence, meeting you here,” Emma commented with a smile.

“I’ll be sure to tell Mary Margaret I met the two of you. Now, what can I do for you today?”

Emma pulled her phone out of her purse, unlocked it, and tapped on the screen a few times. Then she laid it on the counter and turned it to show David. “I signed up for the Rent-a-Pet program. Here’s the email with my confirmation.”

David peered down at the screen and used his finger to scroll down a bit. “I see you chose Norman,” he commented, looking up at her.

“Um, yeah. Is he a good dog? I don’t want any messes in my house or car.”

“He’s a great dog,” he assured her, reaching back to the wall behind him to lift a leash off of a hook. “Gets along well with other dogs, seems to love kids, and is generally a very happy little guy.”

Henry bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “Can we take him to the dog park? Ernie always loved going to the dog park.” His countenance dropped, a small cloud of sadness passing across his features.

David shared an understanding look with Emma. “Of course you can take him. I’m sure he will love it! Would you like to come back with me to get him?”

The boy turned to look at his mother. “Can I?”

“Sure, kid. I think I’ll come back, too, if Mr. Nolan doesn’t mind.”

“The more, the merrier,” David said cheerfully.

He waited until they joined him on the other side of the counter, then opened the door to the large room full of animal cages. Immediately, the sound of barking, howling and meows filled their ears.

“They get very excited when they know someone is coming back here. I think the animals closest to the door are spies and tell the others,” David joked, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

Emma walked behind Henry, watching him turn his head left and right to peer at the occupants of all of the pens.

“Aw, Mom, look at that little puppy! He’s so cute! Aw, that dog seems sad. I bet he doesn’t like being in a cage. Look Mom, they have cats here, too.” His litany was continuous as they slowly walked down the aisle between the enclosures.

Finally, David stopped in front of a pen and turned to them, gesturing toward the dog inside. “This is Norman. He has a sad story, but he’s kept his sweet temperament, haven’t you, boy?”

As if in answer, the black dog stood up, his tail starting to wag as he realized the man was talking about him. Henry dropped to his knees in front of the cage, placing his hands against the wire. “Hi, Norman! My name is Henry. Would you like to come home with us for a little while?” The dog’s tail was wagging so fast, his entire body wiggled. “I think he understands me, Mom!” Henry said excitedly.

As David slipped inside the pen to clip the leash to Norman’s collar, Emma asked, “Has he ever been rented before?”

“Several times,” David answered, straightening up once he had the leash attached. “He’s always done really well.” Opening the door of the kennel again, he allowed the dog to go ahead of him, out to where the boy still knelt.

“Hi, boy,” Henry crooned, running his hands over the dog’s head.

Emma bent down and stroked the sleek fur on Norman’s back and sides. “He’s so soft,” she commented.

“He appears to have the coat of a cocker spaniel,” David said, “but he’s definitely a mixed breed.” He watched the boy and dog interact for a few seconds before holding out the looped end of the leash. “Would you like to lead him out to the lobby, Henry?”

He looked up at Emma with hopeful eyes. “Is that okay, Mom?”

“How is he on a leash?” she asked David. “He won’t pull my kid’s arm out of the socket, will he?”

David laughed. “He does fairly well, but if he gets excited, he can get pretty rambunctious. He’ll be fine just going to the lobby, but you might have to walk him out to your car instead of Henry.”

“Sounds like a deal, kid,” she said, giving him a nod of approval.

Henry eagerly accepted the leash and started off down the aisle. “Come on, Norman. Come on, boy. You’re gonna like it at our house. We still have some of Ernie’s toys and balls.”

Emma and David trailed behind. “How long ago did you lose your dog?” he asked.

“Almost a month and Henry is really struggling with it. He and Ernie were best buds.”

“I’m sorry. That’s rough, especially for a kid.”

“And his mom,” Emma added. “I never realized how much I loved that dog, until he got sick and I knew we were going to lose him.”

“Hopefully, Norman will give you both a few hours of enjoyment and help ease the heartache a bit,” David said, before hurrying forward to pull the door open for Henry and the dog.

While David printed off the paperwork, Norman sniffed around Henry, who sat cross-legged on the floor, giggling when the dog licked his ears. “Ernie used to do that too, remember, Mom?”

Emma smiled down at him. “Yeah, you must have very tasty ears. Maybe you should start washing them better.”

“I won’t need to, after Norman washes them!”

She turned back to finish signing the papers. “It’s nice to hear him laughing again. He hasn’t done much of that lately,” she confided to David.

“I think this will be good for both of you and Norman. He really likes being around people. I’m very surprised he hasn’t been adopted yet.”

“Do you think there’s a reason for that?”

David shrugged. “This tends to be a slow time of the year for adoptions. Summer is over and school is back in session, so people don’t have as much time to welcome a new dog into their house.”

“That’s the boat we’re in right now,” Emma commented.

“Once it gets closer to Christmas, people will come in looking for pets to give as gifts. That’s good, but also bad, because about a quarter of them are brought back when they realize a pet is more work than they anticipated.”

“We got Ernie from the shelter when Henry was two. He was already five years old, house-trained and had all of the annoying puppy behaviors out of his system.”

“Most people want puppies instead of adult dogs, but there are a lot of advantages to getting an older dog.”

“Norman doesn’t seem to be very old.”

“I’d say at least two, but he’s pretty chill. Once he runs out of energy, he becomes a couch potato.” David collected the paperwork and tapped it on the counter to straighten it. “Well, that’s all I need from you. Norman is yours until three o’clock.”

“Yay!” Henry shouted, causing the dog to start barking.

Emma reached down to take the leash. “Don’t get him all riled up right before we put him in the car, kid.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Henry apologized. “I just can’t wait to get him home! Can he sit in the back with me?”

“Sure, but first you need to thank Mr. Nolan.”

Henry popped up from the floor and looked back at David. “Thanks, Mr. Nolan! I’ll take good care of Norman, I promise!”

“My pleasure, Henry. Have fun!” David grinned.

Mother and son exited the building, with Norman leading the way, tugging excitedly on the leash. “Slow down, pup,” Emma laughed.

Henry ran ahead to open the door of the yellow Volkswagen Beetle, sliding the front seat forward and clambering into the back. As soon as Norman reached the car, he hopped in and sat on the seat beside Henry like he’d done it every day of his life.

“Well, that was easy,” Emma commented, removing the loop of the leash from her wrist and tossing it beside the dog. After closing the door, she circled around behind the car to get into the driver’s seat. She looked into the rearview mirror and choked up at the sight meeting her eyes. Henry had his arms wrapped around Norman’s neck with his eyes closed and his head resting against the dog’s.

Emma was sure the time with Norman was going to be good for both boy and dog, but she couldn’t help but worry about what would happen when it came time to bring him back to the shelter.

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Emma was barely able to get Henry to eat when they got home, and had to reprimand him for sneaking Norman bits of his sandwich. The dog, for his part, sat politely while they ate, not begging or whining. She was impressed with his behavior, remembering how she had to break Ernie from begging at the table when they first adopted him.

Henry and Norman bonded quickly as they chased each other around the small backyard, playing with a tennis ball and squeaky toys from Ernie’s toy basket. Emma sat on their small patio, thoroughly enjoying the sounds of happy barking and her son’s laughter. She pulled out her phone and took a picture, posting it to the Discord group and tagging Violet’s mom to thank her for the idea of renting a pet.

  Just after two o’clock, Emma suggested taking Norman to the dog park before going back to the shelter. They played there for forty minutes, then the three of them returned home and piled back into the car. Once again, she caught sight in the mirror of her son hugging the dog and sighed, but instead of dreading Norman’s return, she decided to enjoy every minute of happiness it was bringing to Henry…and herself.

Their time with the dog was over all too soon. After Emma parked the car at the shelter, Henry got out of the car and trudged to the door with the leash gripped tightly in his hand. Norman seemed to sense the boy’s mood and walked slowly beside him, his head hanging low.

David was at the desk to greet them again, an understanding look at his face at the dejected look of all three of them. “Was he good for you?” he asked.

“He was great,” Emma answered, rubbing her hand soothingly over her son’s back. “Wasn’t he, kid?”

“Yeah,” Henry quietly agreed, his eyes trained on the floor.

“You know, you’re welcome to rent Norman, or any of our other dogs, anytime you want,” David said.

Henry looked up. “But what if someone adopts him?”

“Well, that would be a good thing for Norman,” Emma reminded him.

“I guess,” Henry sighed. He knelt down beside the dog, wrapping him up in another hug. “I’ll miss you, boy, but maybe I’ll see you again.” The dog licked his cheek, eliciting a small giggle. Then Henry stood and held the leash out to David. “Thank you, Mr. Nolan. I had a lot of fun with Norman.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” David said, accepting the leash and moving around the counter. Patting the dog on the head, he added, “I hope we’ll see you again, soon.”

Henry turned pleading eyes to his mother. “Can we do it again next weekend, Mom?”

“You have Avery’s birthday party next Saturday, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Henry nodded, then bit his lip in contemplation. “The next weekend, then?”

Emma laughed. “We’ll see.” She leaned down to pet the dog’s head. “Be a good boy, Norman. You’re welcome at our house anytime.”

After saying their goodbyes, they watched David take the dog toward the door leading to the back. Norman turned and gave them a sad look before following the shelter worker through it, tearing at Emma’s heart even more.

She swallowed hard and said, “Come on, kid. Let’s go home.”

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The sadness soon wore off and for the next several days, Henry talked almost incessantly about all of the fun he had with Norman. Emma checked their schedule and saw that Henry had another early game three weeks later, which would be the last game of the soccer season. She relayed that news to Henry, asking him if he wanted to rent Norman again that day, and was answered with a very enthusiastic ‘YES!’

She nearly forgot to make the reservation, only remembering three days before, while waiting to pick Henry up from practice. Quickly, she pulled up the website and filled out the form, glancing up often to see if Henry was coming off the field because she always liked to meet him as soon as he did, instead of waiting for him in the car.

Emma was especially glad they decided to rent Norman Saturday, since Henry’s soccer team lost their final game by one goal. His downcast look was soon replaced with excitement when she reminded him that they would be going to the shelter.

When they arrived, he bounded out of the car and waited impatiently for his mom to join him, before practically sprinting to the door. It took a couple of minutes before David emerged from the back, beaming a smile when he saw them waiting at the counter.

“Henry! Emma! I’m very happy to see you again!”

“We’re here to get Norman,” Henry said excitedly.

A puzzled look crossed David’s face. “I’m sorry, but Norman is already being rented by somebody else today,” he informed them.

“What?” Henry asked, a slight tremor in his voice. Then he turned to Emma. “But Mom, you said we would be getting Norman.”

Emma was already pulling the email up on her phone. “There must be some mistake, Mr. Nolan. I reserved Norman when I filled out the form. See?”

She turned her phone for the worker to see it. David looked at it carefully, then pointed to the screen. “It looks like you didn’t ask for a specific dog.”

“I didn’t?” she questioned, then looked at her phone more closely, her heart dropping when she saw the blank space beside the ‘requested animal’ inquiry. “Oh, Henry. I’m so sorry. I was in a hurry when I filled it out and I must have missed that question.”

“We have several other dogs,” David consoled. “I’m sure you’ll have just as much fun with one of them.”

“No I won’t,” Henry pouted. “I only want Norman.”

“Henry…” Emma started, but was interrupted when the door behind her opened.

“Good morning, Dave,” said a deep voice with a distinctive British accent.

Emma turned to see the newcomer and nearly swallowed her tongue. The man standing before her had to be a mirage, because surely someone that handsome didn’t really exist. He had a lean physique clad in dark jeans and a maroon henley, with a tantalizing view of chest hair peeking out of the unbuttoned neckline. A black leather jacket completed his ensemble. His chiseled jawline was covered with a pleasing amount of scruff and his dark, windblown hair was falling over his forehead. He sported a wide grin and, between that and his deep blue eyes, Emma was mesmerized.

She was suddenly very aware of her own appearance. Henry’s early game meant she had thrown on a pair of sweatpants, donned an old hoodie and stuffed a beanie over her barely brushed hair that morning. Her face was free of makeup, unless you counted a few stray flecks of mascara that stubbornly refused to come off when she washed her face the previous evening.

“Hey, Killian,” David greeted.

The man’s - Killian’s - eyes had settled on Emma, a glint of curiosity evident in them.

“Oh, um, come on Henry,” she said, after several moments of silence. “Let’s get out of this man’s way.”

“But Mommmm…” he whined.

Emma put her hand on his shoulder and guided him away from the counter. “We’ll figure something out, kid.”

“I’m in no hurry, Miss,” Killian began.

“No, it’s okay,” she hurried to assure him. “I’m afraid I created a problem that might take a while to straighten out, so please, go ahead.”

“In that case, thank you very much,” he smiled. Turning his eyes to David, he asked, “Is Winston ready?”

Emma was surprised to see the genial shelter worker furrow his brow at the other man. “Why do you insist on calling him that?”

Killian shrugged. “He looks like a Winston to me, and he answers to that name when he’s at my house.”

David glanced at Emma and Henry and opened his mouth to say something, but apparently changed his mind. Grabbing a leash off of a hook, he said, “Give me a minute,” then he pushed the door open and disappeared into the back.

“Are you adopting a dog today?” Henry asked Killian.

“Alas, no. I just moved into a small apartment here three months ago and am still trying to get everything organized and put away. Being in a new town has been a bit lonely at times, so I’ve been coming here now and then to borrow a dog for a few hours.”

“That’s why we’re here, but somebody is taking the dog I want,” Henry grumbled.

“Henry, that’s enough,” Emma reprimanded. “You haven’t even looked at any of the other dogs.”

“None of them will be as good as Norman.”

Killian’s brows raised. “Did you say Nor-”

Just then, the door behind the counter opened and David came through, trying to control a very excited dog.

“Norman!” Henry cheered, dropping to his knees. The dog started jumping toward him, wildly licking his face as soon as he reached the boy.

“I thought you said he was already rented today,” Emma questioned David.

“He is,” he replied, looking pointedly at Killian.

Emma followed his gaze and saw the other man watching the interaction between Henry and the dog with a sheepish look on his face. The pieces began to click together and she asked, “Wait a minute - is Norman the dog you’re renting today?”

“Aye,” Killian confirmed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Looks like we’re here for the same dog.”

“But you called him by another name,” Emma continued.

“He’s the dog I’ve rented every time and he just doesn’t seem like a Norman to me, so I started calling him Winston,” Killian explained.

All three adults stood looking at the whirlwind of fur jumping all over Henry, who was giggling so much, he could hardly catch his breath.

Finally, Killian spoke. “It seems as though Win-, I mean, Norman, has made his choice. Please let Henry and…his mother have the dog today, Dave.”

“Emma,” she informed him. “My name is Emma Swan, and you don’t have to do that. You had him reserved first. Besides, Henry needs to learn he can’t always have his way.”

“I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my time with the dog, knowing how sad it would make Henry,” Killian responded. He took a step forward and offered Emma his hand to shake. “I’m Killian Jones, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma.”

As they shook hands, David cleared his throat. “Um, I have an idea of how to work this out. It’s a nice day, so why don’t all of you take Norman to the dog park together?”

Emma and Killian both whipped their heads around to stare at him. He seemed to shrink back a bit before stammering, “I mean, that way you could all spend time with him and get to know each other at the same time. You’ve been saying you’d like to meet more people in Storybrooke, Killian, and that’s where Henry and Emma live.” Looking at Emma, he added, “I’ve gotten to know Killian pretty well because he sings in the church choir with me and Mary Margaret. He’s a good guy.”

Emma slowly turned her eyes back to the very handsome man whose hand she suddenly realized she was still holding. She dropped it quickly, as she felt a blush heating her cheeks. Then she looked at Henry, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Norman sprawled across his lap. He was looking up at her with hope in his eyes.

Meeting Killian’s gaze once again, she asked, “What do you think?”

“I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position, Emma.”

“You wouldn’t have to go all the way back into Storybrooke,” David said. “There’s a small dog park at the end of the walking path, where a lot of people take dogs they’re thinking of adopting.”

“Please, Mom?” Henry pleaded. “Norman would like that, wouldn’t you, boy?”

Emma took a look at the pair and groaned, “It’s bad enough when you use the puppy dog eyes on me, kid. Now you’ve got the dog doing it, too.”

Killian chuckled lowly, the sound of it making Emma’s stomach flip in a very pleasant way. “I would hate to disappoint the two of them, so I’m game if you are, lass.”

Emma chewed her lip in contemplation for a few seconds, before saying, “Okay, but on one condition - you let me pay half of the rental fee.”

“I already paid the fee online,” Killian said.

“So did I, so I guess that takes care of that.”

“Not really,” David said. “You both paid, but you’re only renting one dog. I should reimburse each of you half of the fee.”

“Keep it,” Emma and Killian answered at the same time, then both laughed.

“The shelter can always use a little extra money, can’t it, Mr. Nolan?” Emma asked.

“Please call me David. And of course we can, if you’re both sure you don’t mind.”

As soon as they affirmed their answer, David walked around the counter and picked up the end of the leash. Handing it to Emma, he said, “In that case, Norman-slash-Winston is yours for the next four hours. You can bring him back sooner, if you like, but I’m sure he’s going to love getting out for a while. Oh, and if you get hungry, there’s usually a couple of food trucks near the dog park on Saturdays. Have fun!”

Emma and Killian thanked him, then went out the door with Norman straining at the leash, and Henry skipping along beside him. They quickly found the sign marking the path and started walking it.

After several paces, Killian turned to Emma and asked, “Is it me, or do you feel like David just set us up?”

“One hundred percent,” Emma laughed.

“How long have you known him?”

“David?” she questioned. At his hum of affirmation, she said, “Henry and I rented Norman three weeks ago and that was the first time I met him. David, I mean, not Norman. Well, it was the first time we met Norman, too. His wife is Henry’s teacher. Again, I mean she’s David’s wife, not Norman’s.” She knew she was rambling, but the thought of spending several hours with the gorgeous stranger was making her nervous.

Killian laughed. “That’s a relief. I borrowed Win-, uh, Norman three times and he never once mentioned being married.”

It was Emma’s turn to laugh - mostly because what he said was funny, but also in relief that he responded to her embarrassing prattling with humor, instead of judgment.

“So, if Dave just met you, he probably doesn’t even know if you’re married or dating anyone. That was a little presumptuous of him.”

“Are you fishing for information, Mr. Jones?” Emma teased.

“Killian will do,” he grinned. “And…perhaps?”

Before she could answer, Henry ran back to join them. “Can I take Norman, Mom? He’s walking really well on the leash, so I don’t think he’ll yank my arm out of the socket.”

She looked at Killian, who raised an eyebrow with a bemused look on his face.

“That’s something I said when we picked Norman up the last time,” she explained. Handing the loop of the leash to Henry, she said, “Don’t get too far ahead of us, kid.”

“We won’t,” he tossed over his shoulder.

Emma turned her attention back to the man beside her. “To answer your non-question Killian, no, I am not married or dating anyone. It’s just Henry and me, and always has been. When I told his father I thought I might be pregnant, he didn’t even stick around long enough to find out if I was or not.”

Killian absorbed this news for a few moments before responding, “If you don’t mind me saying, it sounds as if the two of you might be better off without someone like that, anyway.”

“Oh, definitely. Henry is more mature at eight than his sperm donor was as an adult. I was young and foolish, but I had to grow up fast once I became a single mother.” She watched her son trying to get Norman to walk beside him, then turned to look at Killian. “Sorry, that is a lot more information than I’m sure you wanted to know.”

“No need to apologize, Emma. I did ask, in a roundabout way.”

“So what’s your story? Did you move here from England, or am I misreading your accent?”

“You got it right,” he chuckled, then took a deep breath. “There was nothing left for me in England. My brother moved here soon after our mother died two years ago, and once I found out my girlfriend was actually a married woman, I needed a fresh start.”

“Ouch,” Emma commented.

“Aye, and now I’ve probably shared more than you wanted to know.”

“We’ll call it even, and promise to talk about much lighter subjects for the rest of the day,” Emma said.

“Deal.”

“You said your brother moved here. Does that mean he lives in Storybrooke?”

“Aye, he followed his heart and it led him straight to this quaint little town.”

“Who does he date, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“He’s engaged to the town librarian, Belle French.”

“Liam is your brother? I guess I should have figured that out since your last name is Jones.”

“It’s a very common name, lass. Yes, Liam is my brother. I gather you know him?”

“Belle is one of my best friends, so I know him through her. She used to babysit for Henry quite often, when I was a waitress at Granny’s.”

“Ah, the famous Granny’s Diner!” Killian exclaimed. “I visit that establishment frequently. She makes the best lasagna.”

“I think you meant to say the best grilled cheese and onion rings,” Emma grinned mischieviously.

“I’ve yet to try those particular delicacies,” he smirked.

“Try them,” she advised. “I guarantee you’ll love them.”

Looking ahead, they saw they were nearing the dog park and picked up their pace. They caught up with Henry and Norman just before reaching the entrance. There were about a half-dozen dogs running around the park, some loose and others on leashes.

“I think it would be a good idea for Mr. Jones to take Norman before we go in,” Emma told Henry. “He’ll be able to control him better if he gets too excited.”

“Okay,” Henry said, willingly handing over the leash.

“Thanks, lad,” Killian smiled.

Henry went through the first gate, holding it open for his mom, followed by Killian and Norman. When they were all in the buffer zone, Henry opened the next gate leading into the main part of the park.

“You’re raising quite the gentleman, Emma,” Killian commented, after he entered with the dog.

“He has his moments.”

They all watched Norman as he began sniffing around excitedly, then pulling on the leash when he noticed the other canines sharing his space. He nearly yanked Killian off of his feet with his enthusiasm to meet new friends.

The next twenty minutes were spent chasing the dog and trying to settle him down. After a few of the other owners left with their animals, Henry found a tennis ball and engaged Norman in a game of fetch. The adults sat on a bench to observe the pair, laughing at the clumsiness of the dog.

Emma noticed Killian rubbing his shoulder. “Alright there, Jones?”

“I think he might have pulled my arm out of the socket, Swan,” he quipped.

“Very funny, smart guy,” she said, making him laugh again. They watched for a few more minutes before Emma asked, “Do you have a job in Storybrooke? I started working at the sheriff’s station three months ago and I don’t remember seeing you around town.”

“I’m an architect. I was able to keep my job with the firm in England by working online and attending meetings with clients and my colleagues via Zoom. All of my time is spent in my office at home. It’s not ideal, but I appreciate my boss being willing to make concessions for me.”

“Do you plan to get a job here eventually?”

“Aye, if I decide to stay.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“I’m used to the hustle and bustle of a big city. Living in Storybrooke has been quite an adjustment.”

“I get that. We moved here from Boston when Henry was two. Granny’s granddaughter, Ruby, was our neighbor there, and when she decided to move back, she talked me into coming with her. At first, I had a hard time getting used to the peace and quiet. That was one reason why I adopted Ernie - just to have a little more noise in the house.”

“Ernie?” Killian questioned.

“Oh, he was our dog. We had him for six years, but he died a couple of months ago.” She pulled her phone out of the pouch of her hoodie and swiped to reveal her lock screen. “This is a picture of Henry with him.”

“Beautiful animal,” Killian commented sincerely, taking in the photo of the brown and white spaniel. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks,” Emma sighed, locking her phone and returning it to the pocket. “Henry grew up with him and he’s had a really hard time with it. Someone suggested renting a pet from the shelter to help him work through it, and that’s how we ended up renting Norman.”

“They seem to really like each other.”

“Yeah, they got along great the first time. That’s why I signed up to get him again, but I was in a hurry when I filled out the form and forgot to ask for a specific dog.”

“Ah, that explains the mix-up,” Killian remarked.

Another half hour passed while they chatted easily, until Henry came over and flopped down on the ground, quickly joined by Norman. “I’m hungry, Mom. Can we get something to eat?”

“Sure, kid. Put Norman back on his leash and we’ll go find those food trucks Mr. Nolan mentioned.”

They soon located the food trucks just down the sidewalk from the park. After discussing their options, they decided to get pulled pork sandwiches from the barbeque place. It was obvious that people who took their pets to the dog park frequented the food trucks, because each one had bowls of water set out in front of them and containers of dog biscuits on their condiment tables.

While they waited for their food, Henry tried to teach Norman to sit, rewarding him with pieces of the biscuits when he obeyed.

“He’s very good with him,” Killian noted.

“He prays for another dog every night, but our schedule is so busy right now. Plus, it’s such a big responsibility and I’m not sure Henry is ready for it. I might be wrong about that though, seeing how he is with Norman.”

After eating, they followed the sidewalk a little further and spotted a playground. Emma and Killian sat on a bench, with Norman sitting between them as they watched Henry play on the equipment.

“You know, we’ve lived in Storybrooke for six years and I never knew this playground existed,” Emma commented. “We don’t come this way very often, because whenever we go out of town, we take the road going south.”

“It appears to be fairly new,” Killian observed. “Perhaps they constructed it when they built those apartments over there, because they don’t look like they’ve been there very long.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. I remember when they were being constructed a couple of years after we moved here, which means they’re less than five years old.”

They lost sight of Henry for a few seconds when he climbed a ladder up into a tower. Suddenly they heard him shout, “Hey, Mom! Look what I found!” and saw him coming down a twisting slide with his arms over his head, clutching a tattered looking soccer ball.

He landed at the bottom and came running over to them. “Someone must have forgotten this at the top of the tower. Wanna kick it around with me?”

“Sure, kid,” Emma answered, hopping up from the bench. “It looks a bit deflated. Are you sure it’s even going to roll?”

“It’ll be fine,” he assured her. Placing it on the ground, he gave it a kick and watched it roll across the grass. “See?”

A black streak flew past him, with Killian following close behind shouting, “Wins-, I mean, Norman! Come back here!”

The dog ignored him, but stopped when he got to the soccer ball. He was trying to pick it up in his mouth when the three humans reached him. Killian was able to kick it away from him, directly to Emma, who stopped it with her foot, then booted it over to Henry. Norman ran from one to the other, in hot pursuit of the elusive ball.

The ‘keep away’ game kept them entertained for a long time. They ran, shouting instructions to each other and laughing until all of them were completely out of breath. Norman was able to intercept some of their passes, but they always managed to get it away from him before he was able to pick it up and run off.

Finally, Emma declared that she had to take a break. Picking up Norman’s leash, she said, “I think we should take him back to the food trucks to get a drink and buy a couple of bottles of water.”

“Aww, Mom,” Henry complained. “I’m not ready to go yet. Can’t I stay here? Killian will stay with me, won’t you, Killian?”

“First of all, you should call him Mr. Jones, and secondly, you’re putting him on the spot, which isn’t cool,” Emma admonished.

Henry looked appropriately chagrined. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jones.”

“Thank you, Henry, but if I may be so bold, I don’t mind you calling me Killian. That is, if it’s okay with your mother.”

Henry looked to his mom, who considered for a few seconds, then gave him a nod of approval.

Killian put his arm across Henry’s shoulders and walked him the short distance to where Emma was standing. “I’d be happy to go get the water, Emma.” He took the end of Norman’s leash from her. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

While he was gone, Emma sat on the bench watching Henry continue to kick the soccer ball around. Killian and Norman returned a few minutes later, handed her a bottle of water and sat down beside her.

“Do I owe you anything for this?” Emma asked, unscrewing the lid.

“Not at all. I think I can afford to buy a lovely lass a bottle of water.”

She refrained from rolling her eyes at his use of the adjective, still rueing the fact she met such a handsome man while looking like she just rolled out of bed. As she was getting ready to take a drink, Henry kicked the ball and sent it sailing over their head, causing Emma to duck and spill some of the water in her lap.

Henry ran over, stopping in front of her. “Oops. Sorry, Mom. I was trying to kick it at the teeter-totter.”

Emma brushed at the water droplets, looking around to locate the teeter-totter, which was at least twenty feet away from the bench. “Not even close, kid.”

Killian stood up. “Perhaps I could give you some pointers, lad. I was a rather good football player when I was younger .”

Henry’s forehead creased in confusion. “I play soccer, not football.”

Killian chuckled as Emma explained, “Killian grew up in England and over there, soccer is called football. They call what we play ‘American football’, don’t they, Killian?”

“Aye, lass. Sorry to confuse you, Henry.”

“Oh, I never knew that. So, how good were you?”

Killian rubbed a finger behind his ear, ducking his head a bit. “I played in a semi-professional league for a couple of years and actually tried out for a professional club, before I decided to go to Uni and become an architect instead.”

“Wow! Cool!” Henry exclaimed. “You probably know even more about soccer than my coach!”

Emma laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he knows a bit more than a volunteer coach for a youth league team.” She took the dog’s leash back from Killian. “Norman and I will sit this lesson out.”

Killian attempted to wink at her. “As you wish, Milady. Come on, lad. We’ve got work to do.”

She smiled fondly, watching the two of them passing the ball back and forth for a while, before pulling out her phone to catch up on her social media apps.

When she looked up a few minutes later, she saw Killian giving Henry instructions for controlling the ball as he dribbled it down the field. Apparently, they were using two trees as the goal and Henry was moving toward them quickly, while trying rather unsuccessfully to keep the ball under control. When he kicked it from quite a distance away, the ball hit one of the trees and ricocheted away.

Killian went to retrieve the ball and took it back to where Henry was waiting. He squatted down in front of the boy and began talking to him, gesturing now and then to different parts of the field.

Henry listened intently, nodding once in a while. When Killian finished speaking, he stood up and did a short demonstration of how to move the ball back and forth from foot to foot. Then he patted the boy’s shoulder, walked the ball further away from the trees and set it down.

Henry lined himself up behind the ball and looked up at Killian. After getting a reassuring smile from him, Henry started dribbling the ball across the ground with shorter, more controlled kicks, while Killian jogged beside him, shouting encouragement. This time, he got the ball much closer to the trees, before giving it a powerful kick that sent it shooting right between them.

Killian whooped as Henry raised his arms in victory, giving a triumphant cheer. What Emma saw happen next put a lump in her throat. Henry flung his arms around Killian’s waist, hugging him tightly, and Killian returned the hug, rubbing his hand over her son’s head as he looked down at him with a proud smile on his face.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

NEW TAG LIST:

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[fountainpenguin]

Small 'Fic Posting News

I moved a lot of early FOP character studies and warm-ups to my unrevealed Riddle WIPs collection on AO3, so they're easily on hand for me to tag and post when I feel ready.

A lot of these are things I enjoyed, but didn't feel comfy sharing back in 2016/17. They're cool to look back on and I'm ready to let them go. Some are suggestive, some are emotionally intense, some are very simple character studies, so as always, tread with care.

I also think they're neat because they don't build on each other, so they're pretty low-brainpower reads (imo), which some people may like.

I don't expect to post one of these old things every week, but they'll probably show up on Mondays or Wednesdays or something like that (Once Life of a Loser stops posting on Wednesdays, which is in two weeks).

As per the norm, M and E works will be under the ScarletPenguin pseud, so if you know that's not your cup of tea and you see the email, you can delete it without needing to open it or check tags.

These old pieces will be exclusive to AO3 (Organization, easier for my brain, etc.) On the off chance anything becomes a Prompt, it will go on FFN.

Not planning to do Tumblr announcements or cover images for them. They're off to the side for the people interested. Might shout out a few favorites, though.

AO3 series to subscribe to or avoid at your preference:

🌈 Rainbow Train - All FOP 'fics that aren't 130 Prompts (i.e. It will include these old pieces). 🖤 Off the Rails - Stuff that doesn't fit my main AUs (Cloudlands, City Lights, Reedfilter). Most old pieces will go here since they're non-canon now. ❤️ Red Train - Romantic or sensual works (All FOP AUs).

Additional reminder:

🚂 130 Reasons Why I'm Fairy Trash - Everything in this one-shot series is G or T. If you feel uneasy about Rainbow Train, you can filter M and E stuff out by subscribing just to this one!

Under the cut, I have examples (i.e. screenshots of these WIP titles and summaries like what you would see when scrolling AO3) to help people get a feel for the vibe.

Suggestive or gross summaries & commentary; proceed at own discretion. Obviously, #ridspoilers.

Reminder - These are WIP screenshots. The pieces will have proper tags and meta before they're posted. Titles may also change.

Bonus disclaimer: If you see a line in an old WIP that seems familiar... I do yoink things from these sometimes because I wasn't planning to post them, yes <3

This will be the first one:

Exactly what it says on the tin- Super simple.

Here are a few more examples (No specific order)-

A scene from Frayed Knots I've always regretted cutting even though it was for the best, but y'know what? It deserves to be shared because it's funny :)

Another moment from canon translated into my style! There's also a "Flappy finds out Gary and Betty knew about magic the whole time" bit somewhere in here that I had to throw out after "Solo" happened.

I will not apologize for my deity break-up drama. I might apologize for Prince Thursday's seasonal torment, but he's the nature spirit of Leaves, so-

Unpleasant non-con / dubcon situations... We know how this goes.

And the obligatory sequel to the above. That pixie sure can character arc!

Very cursed flirty pixies, my beloved...

Do you have any idea how weird it feels to post pre-reincarnation pieces out of context... skldjf...

It's gross! It's goofy! Cupid's ancestors took her mobility aid because they're unpleasant people! We just keep winning!!

Uncut version of the Ambrolara scenes! I sadly cut some of my favorites lines from "Hate That I Love You" because it would've crossed the line... but I love them....... my cursed OCs who are awful for each other.

No one understands Sanderson's mind, not even me 7 years later... He can do whatever he wants forever.

Foop's romantic scenes during the late-Prompts era are some of my favorite warm-ups... He's here, he's queer, he's having a mental breakdown spitting and crying over his dad not noticing him sneaking in a girl, he was forced to marry someone he desperately does not want to be intimate with, he loves his mom, he's losing the power struggle against his alt personality, he's this close to losing his inheritance, he calls his wife his mistress's name... No one is doing it like him. Probably because he's doing SO bad!!

The preview scene you see in "Trouble Beyond Paradise" finally broke me... It's been a favorite since 2017 and I just really want to share... That one's a multi-chapter and I hope you guys like it. I love Foop/Anti-Marigold and their weird situation... Like, of COURSE if Poof has severe anxiety about accidentally forcing them into dubcon, Foop's genius idea is to get the first time over with before Poof/Goldie can bind them into it. So funny. They are silly little guys... the people have a right to know...

Very old anatomy study. It's about bees ripping apart when they mate. It's... sort of cute? Mostly horrific and full of pain and sobbing? :'D If you pick this up, you will very quickly see why I never intended to post it, but... It's 2024, baby! Welcome to my mind...

- This one will likely get a new title, so be careful if this is one you want to avoid. - Where is that post that goes like "Why do all my ace friends write the most bizarre sex scenes?" followed by "Have to throw in something interesting for us." sdfkj. Yeah... It's me, I'm that guy. And this kind of guy.

And more!! I hope you like reading these old pieces, but if they are not your thing, that is perfectly fine. Some of these are not even my thing, but sometimes you have to write it to know that! Sometimes you knew that and wrote it anyway because ??? idk.

I think it's neat to see my style change over the years. I hope you get some joy out of them, even if they're hyperspecific.

[aggie-postemon]

The Greater War

Twelve years after the start of the Great War (and ten years since it ended), Alek sits on the throne of Austria. He's got Dylan to thank for it, but even he's not entirely sure why his best friend brought him a country.

Come along for whispered secrets; shouted secrets; courtly intrigue; and, of course, a long-secret romance, revealed at last.

Chapter Two - Three Arrivals and a Return

AO3 | FFN

Alek's conversation with Volger had been both reassuring and disquieting. Volger was so sure that Dylan was totally loyal to Alek, would return no matter what. And yet this secret that Volger had kept - and for a boy he'd not much cared for, at first - sounded large enough to destabilize any loyalty.

Not Alek's. Volger was right. Alek would never abandon the man who'd given him Austria. And he wouldn't have abandoned the man, even if he hadn't given him Austria. Being loyal to Alek was so complicated that Alek was sure he could return the favor: loyalty in the face of complications.

Still. He felt itchy. He felt itchy all through three weeks of royal drudgery. He felt itchy trying to sleep. He felt itchy waking up. He felt itchy all the way down to the hangar on the day Dylan was due to return.

He couldn't be sure of the time, but he'd cleared his schedule for the day. God knew Dylan's absence, Dylan's secrets, were making Alek exceptionally useless anyway.

So, Alek was already in the hangar waiting when Dylan's biplane rolled in through the open doors.

And there was Dylan, climbing out of his biplane, helmet tucked under one arm, lemon yellow hair gleaming in the sunlight that streamed through the doors. He was the most welcome sight Alek had seen in days.

"Dylan!" he said, trying to pretend that he'd only just arrived, that he hadn't been anxiously waiting in the hangar since the early morning.

Dylan flashed Alek one of his more brilliant smiles. "Alek! It's bloody good to see you."

Alek hugged his best friend, buried his face in his shoulder in utter relief that he'd returned.

Alek supposed he could be forgiven for not noticing a second yellow haired man, even taller than Dylan, until he said, eyebrows high on his forehead, "I see we have a royal welcome."

Alek hastily let go of Dylan, who laughed at him. "Jaspert, I don't suppose you remember His Royal Majesty, King of Austria, Aleksandar von Hohenburg. His Princeliness."

Volger could make Alek's titles sound chiding. Dylan made those same titles sound like gentle teasing.

"It's good to see you, Alek," Jaspert Sharp said, grasping at Alek's forearm and pulling him into a one-armed hug.

There was no intimacy earned between Alek and Jaspert that justified the flagrant disregard for the gap in their stations, but Alek figured that Sharp men were just like that. He'd always appreciated that about Dylan, that Dylan just treated him like any other man.

"Jaspert," came an exasperated voice from the plane - though really, it was only supposed to seat two. "Stop acting above your station and come get me out of this death trap."

Jaspert grinned. "Coming mother!"

Mrs. Sharp could not get out of the plane by herself because she was encumbered by a large wooden box, stuffed with hay.

"The Lady Boffin," Dylan said by way of explanation. "She's got a new beastie she wants me to hatch and train."

"Isn't this plane only supposed to seat two?" Alek asked.

"Aye. Which is why Ma's in the cargo space with the eggs. I'd have given her the seat and stuffed Jaspert back there, but Ma insisted. Seems to think he'd break them and get himself murdered by Dr. Barlow."

"All arguments that I am a grown man capable of being careful went unheard," Jaspert said, transferring the egg box to Dylan under his mother's gimlet eye before helping her out of the plane.

"I know you, Jaspert Sharp," Mrs. Sharp said. "You're bad at details, and incubation needs attention to detail."

"I didn't know you were a fabricator, Ma'am," Alek said, feeling slightly bewildered.

Mrs. Sharp snorted. "I keep chickens, young man. Regular chickens."

For all her talk about Jaspert acting above his station, she was certainly happy to make herself a hypocrite.

Alek looked at Dylan for help.

Dylan, for his part, looked torn between humor and misery. "This was the crisis," he said. "Apparently, Ma moved into Dr. Barlow's apartment and refused to leave until I came to get her."

"Also, the eggs. Dr. Barlow was going to summon Darren anyway to come help her finish fabricating the eggs - and get the incubation underway so it might be ready to travel," Mrs. Sharp said. She did that sometimes, called Dylan by the wrong name. "That's how I knew it would be a good time to launch my attack."

"Why?" Alek said, mostly to Dylan.

Mrs. Sharp looked at him steadily. "I miss my child. You've been on the throne of Austria for nearly ten years. If the situation isn't stable enough for me to come visit now, then it never will be."

"Dylan, you can always visit Scotland," Alek said uncertainly. "You're not a prisoner here, you can always take time off."

Dylan raised an eyebrow at him. Mrs. Sharp, though, spoke. "Please, it's hardly your fault, Your Majesty. Dylan comes home precisely as often as Dylan wants to come home. Which is almost never. You'll forgive a mother for taking matters into her own hands."

Dylan put a hand on Alek's shoulder, said, an unusual note of vulnerability in his voice, "You don't mind, do you? Please tell me you don't mind."

Earnestly, Alek put his own hand on Dylan's. "Konopiste is your home too. And any family of yours is family of mine."

Jaspert's mouth fell open. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Alek said, not sure what Jaspert's objection was, and hoping to sound more confident than he felt.

"Does he not hear himself?" Jaspert asked.

Neither Dylan nor Mrs. Sharp answered verbally, but Dylan rubbed his free hand down his ever meticulously clean-shaven jaw. Mrs. Sharp caught Alek's eye and smirked.

Honestly, Alek had no idea what he'd said.

"He really doesn't, Mr. Sharp," said Volger, who'd apparently snuck in when Alek hadn't been paying attention.

Feeling unfairly beset upon by all sides, Alek decided to make a tactical retreat.

"Well, I'll give you all space to get settled. Dylan, you know where the guest chambers are. I'm sure you know best where exactly to put them. I'd love to hear more about the eggs when you have a chance."

Normally, Alek and Dylan spent the day of Dylan's returns together, both taking relief and comfort in being reunited, exchanging relevant intel, and getting Dylan settled back into Konopiste together.

Well. At least they could exchange intel once the Sharps were settled.

Alek peeked into the box Dylan still cradled. Three eggs were nestled into warm hay, fabricated heaters tucked around them, and a thermometer sticking out.

Good memories.

Bovril was getting old these days, but Alek knew it would be thrilled to see the eggs; its own perspacacious grandchildren scampered wildly around Konopiste.

He reached into the box and gave each egg a loving pat - ignoring how Jaspert muttered something into his sleeve - and then fled the hangar. Dylan could handle his family, and Alek would... entertain them later.

"He's going to make an excellent father," Alek swore he heard Mrs. Sharp say behind him. His ears went pink.

Dylan's voice rose in response to that, but Alek had fled too far down the hall to hear.

He became aware that Volger had followed him. "Do they know?"

Volger coughed. "It's not something he could have hid from his family."

"Is that what... all that... was about?"

"Probably," Volger said. "If I'm trying to convince Mr. Sharp to tell you, I'm sure they've been wresting with the idea for at least five years."

"Did she really just say I'd make an excellent father?"

"Yes," Volger said. "She did."

"Why?" Alek demanded.

"Mostly to embarrass Mr. Sharp," he said, and that made no sense. "Also, you are nearly twenty-eight, unmarried, and a sovereign with no heir."

Courtiers had been making noise about that, yes. But Alek just couldn't entertain marriage. He felt spoken for, somehow, by his very country. He'd fallen in love with the Leviathan, and now he was in love with Austria herself. He'd have to get married eventually, he knew that. But. Just. Not yet.

"Why would any of that embarrass Dylan?"

"Well, I imagine she wants to see both of you married. Remarking on your qualities might spur her own child into action, and Dylan sees that motive."

Well. Maybe Alek could see that. A little.

Feeling a little more settled, Alek went to his office. There was a fresh projection of Austria's next harvest yield that he needed to look over, and a petition for tax adjustments. The itchiness in his skin had calmed down with Dylan's arrival, and maybe now Alek could focus on his responsibilities.

~~~

Dylan came to find him an hour later. "Thanks," he said. "Dr. Barlow absolutely insisted I bring them here."

"We have plenty of space," Alek said. "Anyway, Dylan. How are you?"

Dylan grimmaced, and Alek remembered that Dylan's relationship with his mother had always been strained, going back to some conflict that had emerged following the death of his father.

"That bad?" Alek asked.

"No," Dylan said. "Having them here will be an adjustment, but it's been a long time. It'll be good to have them around."

"Good," Alek said firmly, then dove into broader questions about Dylan's trip, about Dr. Barlow, and finally about the eggs.

"They're a new sort of biplane," Deryn said enthusiastically. "But I'm not going to say much - I want you to be surprised when they hatch."

"I look forward to it," Alek said, then, "I want to take Bovril up to see them."

"Yes!" Dylan said. "Let's! I set them up in my chambers. They should hatch in another week and a half, but I'll be stuck on egg duty till they do."

"At least Newkirk won't kill any of these," Alek said.

Dylan shook his head, then grinned. "Blisters, but it's been a while since we've talked to him."

"It has," Alek said. "Did you meet up with any of the Leviathan crew in London?"

"Just old Mr. Hirst," Dylan said. "Retirement suits him. I think I might have run into this utter prat - Fitzroy - on the street, but he was kicked off before you joined us, and he absolutely did not acknowledge me if it even was him."

And so Alek listened to Dylan talk about London as the two of them went to collect Bovril from the greenhouse.

Bovril didn't need them in quite the same way it did when it was young, and it had plenty of its own business to engage in, having been tapped to raise both biological children of its own and a secondary set of egg-fabricated perspacacious lorises. Still, Bovril loved them both and scuttled up the leg of Dylan's trousers to his shoulder the moment they stepped into the greenhouse.

"Mr. Sharp!" It said, still using Volger's sardonic Mister. It sniffed deeply. "Egg!"

"That's right, beastie," Dylan said. "I've got eggs. Not more lorises, though."

Bovril looked around the greenhouse. "Lorises plenty," it said. "Plenty."

"Oh, beastie, you are not wrong. How is the taxonomy coming?"

That's what the lorises were doing. They were young and being taught to sniff out connections by putting together a taxonomic tree of all the plants in Konopiste's greenhouse.

Eventually, they'd be given as diplomatic gifts across the world, as adults, to bypass their tendency to imprint on one single person if handled too young. A joint present from Britain and Austria.

"Taxonomy," Bovril said gravely. "Taxonomy."

Dylan laughed. "Let's get you a break, then. Would you like to come see the eggs?"

"Eggs!" Bovril said, then jumped from Dylan's shoulder to Alek's.

When they entered Konopiste, Bovril took another deep sniff. "Mrs. Sharp and Jaspert Sharp."

"They arrived with Dylan this morning," Alek said as they pushed into Dylan's chambers.

The eggs were still in the crate they'd come in, placed on a table by Dylan's coziest armchair. Might as well make long hours of egg sitting moderately more comfortable. Alek crossed straight to them.

"They're large," he said.

"They have to be," Dylan said. "They're going to be large enough to carry four riders as adults."

"Incredible," Alek said. "God's wounds, I always forget how beautiful fabrication eggs are."

"Aren't they?" Dylan chuckled, then. "Remember when you thought Bovril's egg was creepy?"

Alek traced a line down one of the eggs with his forefinger. "I hadn't fallen in love with the Leviathan yet."

"You were in love with the Leviathan the moment you saw us crash into the snow," Dylan countered.

"True," Alek said. "I just didnt know it yet."

Dylan busied himself with the egg thermometer, and Bovril slid down Alek's arm to inspect the eggs at closer range.

"Good eggs," it said.

"Good to hear," Dylan murmured. "I was worried the flight might scramble them."

"Not on your mother's watch," Alek said. And here, in the space above their eggs, Alek found the strength to. Well. Not quite ask the question he really wanted to ask, but at least to ask around it. "What exactly does your mother want to achieve here?"

Dylan removed one of the little biological heaters from the crate, evidently satisfied with the temperature. "I wish I knew," he said. "But mothers are supposed to confuse us, I think."

Bovril gave Dylan a stern glance, crossing its paws over its chest. He looked back at Alek and made steady eye contact before speaking, but Alek was fairly sure the message was intended for Dylan. "Mr. Sharp," Bovril said, sounding almost exasperated. "Your wife."

Dylan visibly flinched, looked at the loris, looked at Alek.

And suddenly, Alek knew Dylan's deep dark secret. Dylan hadn't left Lilit behind in New York at all. They'd eloped before they parted, and now Mrs. Sharp was trying to persuade her son to do right by his wife.

It made sense - Alex's trusted advisor being secretly married to the woman who all but ruled Turkey behind closed doors would be the sort of thing Dr. Barlow needed to know. If the news had emerged at the wrong time during Alek's fight for the throne, it would have made things very complicated.

Even today, bringing Lilit to Konopiste or sending Dylan to Istanbul would be complicated. But Volger was right - it was a complicated they could navigate now.

Dylan gave a nervous little laugh. "I guess you're probably right, beastie. She probably does want to find me a wife."

Nice deflection, Dylan. Even Bovril was unimpressed, looking between the two of them like they were both particularly stupid. It didn't say anything more, though, just let out a little puff of air and bent back over the precious eggs in the crate.

He's going to make an excellent father, Alek remembered Mrs. Sharp saying, and in this new light it made more sense, how that would be a dig at Dylan. Did Lilit want children Dylan wasn't giving her?

A pit dropped in Alek's stomach. Did Lilit have children Dylan wasn't around for?

He could practically see them, a little boy and a little girl, caught somewhere between Lilit and Dylan's very opposite colorings. Lanky like Dylan, densely built and strong like Lilit. Clever and brave, daring and kind. The best of both of them.

Like both Dylan and Lilit, missing their father.

If they'd gotten right to business, the oldest of them could be nearly eleven, though Alek suspected Lilit would not have had children that early.

God's wounds, Alek was going to be sick.

He's going to make an excellent father, Mrs. Sharp had said. He's going to make an excellent father.

Left unsaid, that Alek would do a better job of it than Dylan.

But Dylan was clearly not fessing up to any of that, and Alek desperately tried to cling to his promises to Volger. That he wouldn't try to figure it out. That he'd let Dylan come to him. That he'd take it well. Or at least try to take it well.

Alek tried to turn it into a pointed joke, said, "Well, we can always invite Lilit to Konopiste if it would make your mother feel better. I always liked you two together."

Dylan turned positively green. "Alek, what are you talking about?"

"The two of you got close in Istanbul. That's all. And I haven't seen you get close to another woman like that since."

Dylan collapsed in his armchair, rifled a hand through his blond hair. "Alek. We were fighting a war together. Of course we got close. The two of you got close, too."

"It wasn't me she kissed after her father died," Alek said, trying to keep his tone sing-songy and light, despite the fact that he still kind of wanted to vomit.

"Alek," Dylan said. "Alek. She sends us a Christmas card every year with Adela Rodgers."

Well, a mother with her husband living across the world would need another adult helping her, especially if she wanted to remain as politically involved as Alek knew Lilit was.

"So she has a roommate," Alek said. "They make sense together. Driven politician and driven reporter, they probably exchange important information all the time."

"Alek," Dylan said, like Alek was a particularly slow dog, and also like he was giving something away he didn't want to. "Alek. They make sense together because they're together."

"What?"

"They're lovers."

"What?"

"Lilit tried to like me in Istanbul because she was trying to force herself to like men. And I suppose she thought I might be feminine enough for her tastes."

"What?"

Alek backed into the other armchair in Dylan's room.

"Lilit and Adela are lovers. Lilit certainly doesn't want to marry me, and I never wanted to marry her, either. I was honestly a little blindsided when she kissed me. She told me the truth of it when we were in New York."

"Really?" Alek said.

"Aye, really. You had no idea?" Dylan looked at him incredulously. "Really?"

"Really," Alek said, weakly. "Should we have sent her a. Well. Not a wedding present, because I suppose they can't marry. But. A joining present?"

Dylan burst into laughter, then. "We did! Remember the set of lorises we brought to Turkey?"

Alek did remember. "That wasn't their wedding, was it?"

"Nay," Deryn assured. "Even you're not that clueless, to miss a wedding you attended. Besides, it was just before Nene passed, so I think you were a little preoccupied with running errands for her while we were there."

Nene had taken immense pleasure in ordering the King of Austria around her deathbed. It had been endearing, honestly.

Alek thought back to the way Dylan and Lilit had interacted during that trip. Trusting. Affectionate. Utterly unawkward. Adela Rodgers had been running around the proceedings, hadn't she?

It was then that Alek thought of another objection: "Feminine enough for her tastes? You were the manliest teenage boy I'd ever met!" "The boy you'd have wanted to be, if you'd been born common," Dylan said, crossing his arms. "I remember. And Lilit saw in me the woman she wanted, if I'd been born a girl." There was a sardonic twist to Dylan's mouth, now, but Alek wasn't quite sure why. "Woman," Bovril took that moment to say. "Mr. Sharp, born a girl." Dylan shot the little creature an absolutely dire glare. "Yes, beastie. Lilit wished I was born a girl." Alek didn't know what to say to any of that. Alek didn't really think there were women like Dylan Sharp. What would such a woman even be like? He thought about it. Actually, probably not unlike Adela Rodgers. Alek could not imagine a female Dylan letting anyone tell him what women were supposed to do. Adela wrote. Lilit led. Dr. Barlow was, well, multi-talented. Alek somehow knew that a girl Dylan would have found a way to fly. Apparently, Lilit had a type. "Huh," Alek said. Bovril had been very distinct. Mr. Sharp. Your wife. That still sounded more like a wife Dylan already had than any prospective wife Mrs. Sharp might try to find for him. "We should invite them both to Konopiste, anyway. It's been nearly as long as Newkirk. We can invite him, too." "A war reunion?" Dylan asked. "Sounds fun. But we can't let Newkirk in before the eggs hatch. If the Lady Boffin finds out I let him within a five mile viscinity, she'll have my head."

"That she would," Alek said. "Soon, though."

"Soon. While Ma and Jaspert are here. They'd love to meet the whole gang."

"Absolutely," Alek agreed.

Alek looked at Dylan and felt silly all over again. Volger had known the secret since before Dylan had even come to Istanbul. If he had a wife - and really, quite a bit of evidence seemed to be pointing there - it couldn't be Lilit.

Jealousy was an absurd thing to feel about all this, right? Still, as Alek imagined a woman who might be Dylan's wife, he thought jealousy might be the right word for the feeling in his chest.

Silly, indeed.

[wilygryphon]

Kingdom Hearts - Christmas Hearts

A Kingdom Hearts Christmas one-shot that I posted on FFN and AO3 two years ago. I figure 'tis the season to share it here.

Summary: The Guardians of Light celebrate Christmas at the Land of Departure.  They open presents, take pictures, tell stories, have a magical airstepping snowball fight, and enjoy being together on the most magical day of the year.

————————————————

Sunlight shone through the stained glass windows into the castle on the Land of Departure, reflecting off of the ornaments and tinsel that decorated a magnificent pine tree that was erected in the audience chamber.  Several gift-wrapped boxes sat under the tree, enough for a large group of people.  Fourteen stockings were hooked onto the railing on one side of the chamber, each colored and embroidered to indicate whose it was.  There were also two smaller stockings for Jiminy Cricket and Chirithy.  A large stellated crystal of Orichalcum was mounted on top of the tree as the star.

The castle’s clock tower bell rang, echoing throughout the castle to announce the morning.  Smaller bells chimed in tune with classic carols.  Each of the castle’s occupants woke up, some with the aid of Chirithy, who bounced on top of the late sleepers until they were finally up.  Ventus was the first one down to the chamber, still the physically-youngest and most evidently childish-at-heart.  He was joined by: Sora and Kairi; Mickey, Donald, and Goofy, with Jiminy tagging along in Mickey’s pocket; Aqua and Terra; Roxas and Xion; Riku and Naminé; and Lea and Isa.

��Morning, guys,” Lea said, yawning.  “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas!” everyone replied.

“Jeez, Ven.  You think your Chirithy could bounce any harder?” Lea complained.  “It felt like he was this close to breaking my ribs.”

Chirithy appeared in Ventus’ arms in a puff of smoke.  “If you’d rather skip opening presents, then I won’t bother waking you up next time,” he remarked.  Ventus laughed while Isa chuckled.

“Well, since we’re all down here, why don’t we see what Santa put in our stockings?” Aqua suggested.

Everyone scrambled to their stockings and took out the gifts that were stuffed inside.  They all had candy and (with the exception of Goofy and Jiminy) chocolate; there was a Santa hat and a jingle bell sash for everyone; the Keyblade wielders all got a new Keychain that would give their Keyblades a holiday-themed form; everyone had a chibi plush doll that looked like them; Jiminy’s stocking had a brand new umbrella, while Chirithy’s included a festive cape and Lux pouch.  They looked up and said “Thanks, Santa,” sure that the jolly man in red could hear them.

Next, Aqua passed presents around to everyone.  Sora’s gift from Riku was a digital watch that would sync up to the time zones of each world.  Sora and Kairi traded gifts, Sora giving Kairi a Crystal Regalia + bracelet and Kairi giving Sora a Cosmic Belt.  Sora gifted Donald a new hockey stick and Goofy a new tackle box.  Mickey gave Riku a new jacket.  Terra gifted Ventus a Nintendo Switch.  Roxas gave each of his friends a Struggle Bat and accompanying gear.  Naminé gave everyone a scrapbook filled with her drawings of each of them.  Kairi gave Naminé a new set of colored pencils; Riku gave her a new satchel for her drawing tablet and utensils; Sora gave her a new expansion pack for her tabletop RPG (Tidus had introduced it to her at school, and she turned out to be a surprisingly good DM).  Lea gave Isa a tea set.  Isa gave Xion a fantasy romance novel.  Mickey gave Jiminy a new journal while Sora gave him a new scrapbook.  The Keyblade wielders as well as Donald received a book on magic spells and lore from Merlin.  Every human-sized person received a GummiPad from Ienzo.  Donald received a Junior Woodchucks craft from his nephews and a first aid kit from Webby Vanderquack, the latter of which made Sora and Goofy laugh out loud.  Leon sent them all Christmas sweaters.  Sora found a gift from Ariel that contained a music box.

They sorted their gifts and disposed of the wrapping paper, then put on their sweaters, sashes, and Santa hats (and Chirithy’s Christmas cape and pouch).  Sora held his Gummiphone on a selfie stick and took a group photo in front of the Christmas tree, then they all took separate pictures.

“You met Santa?” Ventus asked, amazed, as the group sat around the dining room table eating their breakfast of omelettes, French Toast, and home fries.

“Yeah.  We first went there when I was fifteen,” Sora recounted.  “First we’d gone to Halloween Town, then saw Jack Skellington preparing for Christmas instead of Halloween.  He then led us to Christmas Town to meet Santa.”

“Sora got scolded,” Donald teased.

“Really?  I would have thought you would have a permanent spot on the Nice List,” Terra remarked.

Sora chuckled awkwardly.  “Well, he brought up the one time I told everyone that I didn’t believe in Santa Claus,” he admitted sheepishly.

“WHAT?!” Ventus and Xion blurted.  Aqua gasped, similarly shocked.

“It was Riku’s fault in the first place,” Sora grumbled.  Riku and Kairi laughed.

“So there’s a Halloween Town and a Christmas Town?  I think I would like to visit those places someday,” Aqua said.

“Maybe we’ll take you to visit next year,” Goofy suggested.

“Great idea,” Roxas said.

“I don’t suppose you had Christmas when you were in the Organization,” Riku remarked.

“Well, we got a day off once a year,” Isa explained.  “That was on the twenty-fifth of December, aligned with Twilight Town’s calendar.  I addressed this fact when I noticed it, and Xemnas permitted a single day with no mission.  I suppose that his intention of giving us a break on Christmas Day was to remind us of what we lacked in order to give us further encouragement to complete Kingdom Hearts.”

Everyone fell silent as they processed that statement, reflecting on the true purpose of the Organization that Xemnas/Xehanort had intended.  Donald crossed his arms and sank back into his chair.  “Humbug,” he muttered.

“You could say that again,” Roxas agreed.

They found more cheerful topics to discuss for the rest of breakfast and for much of the morning, including: how Terra, Ventus and Aqua celebrated Christmas before the Mark of Mastery exam (the tactful way in which Riku described the turning point); how Christmas was celebrated on Destiny Islands, in Daybreak Town (for Ventus and Chirithy to answer), and (mostly for the benefit of Kairi and her still-hazy memories) in Radiant Garden; and what everyone’s favorite Christmas songs were.

“Hey, guys!” Lea called, getting everyone’s attention.  He pointed out the window.  “You see all this snow outside?  I’d say it looks perfect for a snowball fight.”

Sora, Riku and Roxas grinned.  “You’re on!” Sora said.  They all put on coats, gloves, and boots and ran outside.  There was four inches of snow on the ground, a shining white blanket that covered the mountain islands.  Snow also covered the roof and window sills of the castle.  As soon as he was outside, Sora did a backflip and pushed himself off of the wall, launching himself across the forecourt.  He packed together a snowball on landing and spun around to throw it at Riku, who was making a snowball of his own to retaliate.

Everyone spread out, going all in on the attack.  They each sometimes focused on one adversary in particular, and other times briefly grouped up to gang up on someone.  They all ran around to dodge snowballs and attack from different angles.  Sora, Riku, Roxas, Aqua, and Ventus leapt through the air and ran up and down the side of the castle to take the snowball fight to the skies, leaving the others to watch from the ground and laugh as their friends glided and airstepped all over the place and snowballs arced through the air (although Donald regretted this when a stray(?) snowball dropped down and hit him square in the face).  Everyone on the ground got back into the action when Naminé, who up to that point had simply sat on the steps in front of the door and watched, threw a snowball at Terra from behind.

When they were all tired from the snowball fight, they stumbled back inside, laughing, and took off their outdoor clothing.  As they passed through the foyer, Kairi caught Sora by the hand and stopped him, then pointed up to show him that they were standing under the mistletoe.  They laughed and then kissed.  “Merry Christmas,” they said to each other.  After seeing this, the other couples decided to follow their example, and Riku and Naminé, Roxas and Xion, Aqua and Terra, and Lea and Isa shared their own kisses under the mistletoe.

The gang was truly glad to be together on the day that was all about sharing the light in their hearts.  It truly was the most wonderful time of the year.

[keylovesstuff]

Little Events

Omg It's a Key Post you guys know what that means...I'm sharing another story hehe.

AO3

FFN

Toadsworth had returned home from finishing the last of his errands at about nine that night, taking great care in making as little noise as possible. Slipping off his shoes, he placed them next to the other little pair by the door and then headed over to the couch to turn on the lamp. As predicted, It was left unoccupied with the exception of Peach's purple blanket and a couple of books still open. The older mushroom let out a small sigh and shook his head, first folding the blanket and laying it on the back of the couch and picking up the books to take to his bookshelf. One thing that he's learned about taking care of a child for the past two years, was that no matter how many times he would tell her to clean up after herself once finished using something or leaving an area, it never got done. He took great pride in making sure his house looked perfect, that nothing was out of place and other than a few other factors, being messy was definitely in the top five reasons why he did not want kids of his own. Peach, out of all the others, had chosen to be with him though and at such a small age and that had meant a great deal to him even if he never voiced it outloud.

Other toad parents promised him that with age, kids would be better at picking up after themselves. However, he was slightly doubtful as these same people still talked about how their older kids would leave their rooms and other areas of the house from time to time. Peach would be different though, It was his goal to raise a proper young lady in every area. For now he was more than ok with picking up after and teaching her the correct way of doing things. Toadsworth walked down the hall that held the rest of the rooms and took notice that with the exception of his bedroom, all the other doors were left ajar with the lights on. Passing by the bathroom and closet he took a quick glance inside before turning the lights off before making his way to his little girls bedroom. Instead of being met with a small figure curled in her bed, the white and pink flower covers were halfway pulled off the mattress, one of her pillows was missing, there were toys and clothing scattered around the floor, and Peach was nowhere to be found. 

If this hadn't been the third night in a row and fifth occurrence within the past week he would have frantically run out of the house and waking up the entire street to search for her, like he did the first time. This time he knew where she was, they would both clean all this up in the morning before she went off to school so for now, he turned off the light and closed the door and went to his room. The door to Toadsworth's quarters wasn't even halfway open when a few books toppled over startling the five-year old awake with a loud gasp.

"Stay away" she shouted, grabbing the nearest item and throwing it at the shadowy figure in the doorway. 

He had to admit that for how young she was she had a decent arm. If the room wasn't so dark, she might have hit him as she intended. Instead, the cheep-cheep plush landed two feet in front of where he stood. With the light now flipped on, relief instantly flushed over her face as she pulled the cover down from her mouth. 

"Papa, you're home! I was waiting for you but I got sleepy." Peach smiled telling him, suddenly wide wide awake. 

Toadsworth took in his room's altered appearance. The case that shelved his book collection was almost entirely empty save for three. Several missing books were meticulously placed domino style in front of the door, while others were lined up side by side from one end of the room to the other in front of the bed. There was a half circle of stuffed animals around his bed as if they would sprang to life and defend the girl in the bed should an intruder come close. She surrounded herself with pillows all over the bed and it seemed she had a plan B If all else failed, leaving the window a great bit open.

"I see. I do apologize for disturbing your rest. If I may ask, what all happened here?" He asked, looking to get to the heart of the matter. With the books from earlier in hand, he took them over and placed them on the bookshelf before moving to collect the others.

"Mmm, I don't know" Peach answered, taking in the state of the room better with the lights on. "I'll help" she climbed off the bed, rubbing the wrinkles out of her nightdress. Starting on the further side of the room.

"You're right about that my dear and we'll straighten up yours in the morning." He took the books as she handed it to him. "I am looking for a better answer than 'I don't know' however" he said, giving her one of his serious looks.

"After Toadina left, while I was sleeping, I thought I heard a noise and I got scared, so I came to your room where it was safe." Peach finally told him as she picked up the toys. He knew she was leaving out extra details but he could fill in the rest.

"Did you not want to go next door to Ms.Toadina after you got scared? I'm sure she wouldn't have minded you coming over.  I would've picked you up once I came home" He assured following her to her room to drop off the stuffed animals. 

"No cause they said if it sees you outside alone it'll get you and it was dark." She shivered at the thought, placing a few plushies on her bed and putting the rest along with the other toys and clothing in a pile in the corner for tomorrow morning.

Toadsworth knew it was just one of those passing phases that would have to run its course. The 'they' she was referring to was her classmates and The 'it' was some mysterious being meant to scare and take children in the dark. Mere playground rumors meant to spook out each other, he remembered participating in that chatter in his youth. Peach put on a tough front and brave it through the nights and he always offered his room for comfort if she needed. She insisted that she was a big kid who was able to sleep in her own bed.  All he could do was continue to assure and provide her with the security if she chose to come to him. 

"Can I get a snack and drink before I go back to sleep?" She asked, putting the pillow back on bed and pulling the covers back up on the bed.

"Of course. While you eat, I'll get myself ready for the night and if you stay up we can read a story before you sleep." He offered and she nodded with a smile.

It took about forty-five minutes and she sat in her bed waiting for him to exit the bathroom. After she brushed her teeth she returned and he had her pick out a book that they read together. They talked a little bit longer before she started to doze off and snore quietly. Toadsworth left the room as quietly as he could without disturbing her.  He took a few notes in preparation for tomorrow's work and then completed a chapter of the book that he was reading before shutting the lamp off and calling it in for the night. The sound of knocking slowly pulled him out of his deep slumber, flicking on the light he put on his glasses to see a bit better. Peach stood in the doorway clutching her clothing sniffing quietly, he beckoned her with a hand to come in closer.

"I had a bad dream. Can I sleep with you?" She asked, standing in front of him. He sat up in bed and offered her a hug. Peach happily accepted returning his embrace and giggled a little when he pulled her up on the bed beside him.

"One of these days I'm not going to be able to pick you up that easily. You're about as tall as me." He chuckled as she made herself comfortable.

"You just gotta go workout" She told him with a laugh laying her head down on the pillow facing him.

"You tell me where I have time to go for a workout" He jokingly said, taking off his glasses and turning the lamp off laying back down. Instinctively, she moved closer to Toadsworth as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder 

"We can go together during the weekend" she answered seriously and then added "I'll even workout with you" she laughed again.

"We'll see. For now it's time to quiet down and rest, we both have a busy day tomorrow."  He hushed her and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"Ok goodnight. I love you" she told him, closing her eyes.

"I love you too sweetheart" he said, combing his fingers through her hair. Within minutes she was fast asleep. He followed soon afterwards.

[silvershadow1711]

One of the first fanfics I uploaded, back in 2016 (on FFN; I didn't start posting on AO3 until a year later), was a Fire Emblem Fates oneshot, a non-con, yandere gorefest about Jakob killing my Corrin stand-in, Nerr (you might recognize her as "the green-haired girl in all my Fates art and also my pfp"). I wrote that fic before the game was even fully localized (hence Niles being referred to as "Zero" and Beruka as "Belka") and it was... devisive, but I loved it enough to start writing a sequel. Said sequel somehow ended up even darker, and got real messed up before I moved onto other things and eventually forgot how I wanted to end it. But in the spirit of the spooky season, I thought I share an excerpt from the first chapter.

(The OG fic if you've got a hankering for some unhinged Jakob, or Gunter emotional torture, content)

Nohr never was, and never would be, a country known for its sunny days. The sun only managed to cross the border of the Infinite Chasm every few decades. Even so, it was clear that despite the perpetual darkness that lay over the land like a blanket, it was as beautiful a day as one could hope for in the desolate west. Though the sky was a dark bluish shade of gray, birds twittered unseen in the trees, the leaves painted in brilliant hues of red and gold as winter began creeping upon them. This was picnic worthy weather in Nohr, but it was downright gloomy to Azura. A small part of her was grateful for that. It would have seemed horribly inappropriate for the weather to be nice today of all days. The songstress surreptitiously tugged at the lacing on her bodice. She had long forgotten how much she despised Nohrian clothes, with their heavy skirts and pinching shapers, but she had no choice but to wear them today. After all, the flowing white gowns she preferred had no place at a funeral. 

Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes, trying to keep from wringing her hands. She had never been to a funeral before. Her father had died before she was old enough to remember him from anything but portraits. Her mother... There had been no body then, the curse that took her breaking down and gelatinizing her body until it had sloshed across the bed she'd lain in, soaking into the covers and mattress... 

Azura swallowed hard, opening her eyes. At least there was a body this time, however incomplete it might have been. As she headed towards the great hall of the castle, the buzz of dozens of people all whispering at once sent a chill down her spine. Nobles and courtiers had assembled as though they were in attendance of a gala rather than there to pay their respects. Most of them weren't, she knew that. The number of Nohrians who would grieve the loss of a Hoshidan was negligible. No, they were only there to see and be seen, and to talk. The songstress tried her hardest to ignore the hiss of voices as she walked past them, but it was impossible to block everything out. Bits and pieces still reached her. 

    “--the Hoshidans--” 

    “--filthy savages--” 

    “--legs wide open--” 

    “--tried to cover it up--” 

    “--blood everywhere--” 

    “--secret lover--” 

Her hands balled into tight fists at those last words, and it took every ounce of self control she had not to storm over to the bloated prick who had said them. There were two particularly strong rumors being circulated around Krakenburg. The first was that Hoshidan assassins had infiltrated the castle and murdered their own princess as gruesomely as possible to send a message to King Garon. That was the accepted rumor that the king himself encouraged. The second, spread mostly by the servants, was that Princess Nerr was a whore of the highest order and all her sleeping around had come back to bite her in the ass when one of her many jealous lovers decided he didn't like being made a cuckold any more. 

It hurt Azura to the depths of her core to see her friends' name dragged through the mud in such a way. The nerve of those people, blaming someone for their own murder, daring to say they deserved it; did they have no shame? She paused for a moment, reaching up to brush away the tears gathering on her lashes. It had been a horrid few days, with far too many emotions and not nearly enough sleep. So many times when she closed her eyes, she found herself standing at the Infinite Chasm, only for emaciated, rotting arms to reach up and twist around her ankles, dragging her towards them. The woman jumped, gasping loudly as a hand brushed against her shoulder. She nearly struck its owner in her haste to rid herself of it.

    “Oh. Xander... I thought-- you startled me.” 

    “Azura! Calm yourself, sister, it is only I.” Forcing her breathing to slow, she looked back to see Xander standing behind her, his brows more tightly furrowed than usual as he regarded her with concern. Azura sighed deeply, the tension leaving her body at once. 

    “I can see that. I saw you just standing here and began to worry if everything was alright.” 

    “Yes, it's-- I'm fine.” The crown prince remained silent for a long time. If she looked at him long enough, the singer got the feeling that he had aged years in only a few days. His once noble demeanor was now sullen and withdrawn. Gone was his confidence and pride, leaving only misery in its wake. For once, it seemed it wasn't the weight of the crown on his brow that was crushing him. 

    “...we are not fine, Azura. None of us are.” He said quietly. Her heart went out to her older brother, and she rested her hand on his shoulder the way he so often did with her. She had only seen a glimpse of the room, smelled the faintest whiff of blood, before it had been too much for her. Xander had been in there for so long... For a moment, he covered her hand with his own, squeezing it slightly, before removing it from his shoulder. “Come, Azura. Our siblings are waiting for us.” They both walked in silence to the hall. There were even more people amassed there. In the furthest corner of the massive room, a small group of people huddled closely together. Elise had been sobbing into Camilla's dress all the while before, but the moment Azura drew closer, she detached from one sister to run over and bury her tear streaked face in the other's stomach. Azura could do nothing but lightly stroke her head, the long blonde hair tucked under a black cap as was customary in Nohr. 

Now that her arms were free, Camilla pulled a lacy black kerchief from her sleeve, dabbing at the corners of her eyes. Leo did not even look at her when she approached, instead keeping his gaze glued to the floor. Rather than greet his family as he usually did, Xander looked around the great hall, his ever present frown deepening. Azura followed his gaze, frowning as well. She too found it odd that Gunther would not be there with them, especially considering that even Flora and Felicia stood there, albeit a bit further away from the royals, though still close enough to be considered part of the group. It was no secret that there was... friction between him and the eldest prince and princess (to put it kindly), but one would think they could at least set their differences aside on today of all days. 

    “I would've thought Father would be here by now...” 

    “What?” Father? King Garon, that was who he was looking for? Xander nodded grimly, abandoning his futile search for the errant king. 

    “I assumed he would already be here, condemning the Hoshidans for their cowardly actions...” Elise stopped sniveling long enough to look up at her eldest brother, her eyes bloodshot. 

    “But it wasn't the Hoshidans; it was--” 

    “Quiet!” Leo hissed at her, his jaw tight. “We know that, and so does Father, but he clearly wants to stir up fervor amidst the nobility. I can tell you that while none of them might give a damn what happened to--” His voice broke, and he cut himself off for a moment, trying to regain his composure. “...they might not care what happened here, but you'd best believe they won't be sleeping soundly now that they know the Hoshidans can sneak past any security measure. They'll be far more willing to dig into their stingy pockets and donate funds to our war chest if they think it's Hoshidans going around murdering people, rather than lunatic butlers...” 

A veritable chill filled the air at his bitter words, aided by the cold surrounding the Freesian twins. It seemed to be an unspoken rule that they were not to mention Jakob anymore, even in passing. A sinking feeling turned her stomach as she recalled speaking to the butler on more than one occasion. He had seemed perfectly affable, charming even. Her heart had bled for him as he told her of his cold parents, and she had even felt a twinge of jealousy at his devotion towards Nerr. Now, though... 

    'I desperately wanted to stay and earn a place by her side...' 

The memory of his words made her sick. Azura glanced at the long black box at the head of the room, surrounded by flowers and incense. Although it looked very lovely, the only purpose they actually served was to conceal the stench of decaying flesh. Even keeping the princess' body in the cool, dark cellars while nobles had gathered had not been enough to stave off the rot. Azura shuddered suddenly, though she couldn't put her finger on why. It wasn't from the cold, the whispers, or even the horrid knowledge that the first true friend she'd made was slowly liquefying in a box. For a brief moment, something had just felt too wrong for her to ignore. 

Even as the remaining nobles piled into the room, even as King Garon himself made his way inside, standing with Iago and Hans rather than his children as the priest led them in prayer, she could not shake the feeling of wrongness. Every few minutes, her eyes would dart around the room, searching for another head of lilac hair. On the one hand, she could almost understand Gunther's absence. It made sense that he would want to mourn in peace, somewhere far away from the stares and sneers that always seemed directed at him as of late, but on the other... didn't he want to spend a few more moments in his wife's presence? It was the last chance he would have, after all... 

Dwelling on such a line of thoughts was too depressing, even for a funeral, so Azura turned her attention back to the priest, pretending to care about the words he spoke. When she was little, her mother had told her that when people died, they became stars so that they could always look upon those they'd left behind. She had believed that as a child, believed that when she looked up at night, her father was up there somewhere, but as she grew older, she found it harder and harder to find comfort in that particular fairytale. People didn't turn into stars. They turned into soil or, if they were very unlucky, a rushing river's foam, and left you all alone. 

As the prayers ended and silence descended on the hall once more, a group of pallbearers approached the coffin, intending to take it out where the carriage was waiting to transfer Nerr's earthly remains to the graveyard the Nohrian royal family had been interred in for generations. Azura was sincerely surprised Garon would allow someone everyone now knew was truly a Hoshidan to lay amongst his ancestors. She had a sneaking suspicion this was Xander and Camilla's doing more than his. Rather than proceed, it seemed the bearers were talking to one another with increasing frustration. The way they jostled the coffin made it seem as though it was going to hit the ground at any moment. Camilla's hands balled into fist, her lips twisting into an enraged snarl as she stormed up to them, knocking aside any who were in her way. She did not bother controlling her voice, the acoustics of the massive chamber carrying her anger even further. 

    “What is wrong with you!? Have you no shame!? That is my sister you're about to drop, you worthless fools!!” The men cowed in the face of her fury. 

    “We beg your forgiveness, milady, b--but... something is wrong.” 

    “What can possibly be more wrong than it already is?!” 

    “...the coffin, princess... It feels loose. We're trying to be careful, so as to not drop it, but it feels like it might come apart at any moment...” 

    “What are you talking about?” Camilla panted as though she were running, and she grabbed one end of the lacquered box. “You're useless! Give me that!” She pushed the pallbearer away, the sudden shift in weight causing all the rest to stumble slightly. As the coffin shifted, the lid swung off, knocking one of the unfortunate men in the head. He dropped his corner, and the casket hit the ground, the loud crash silencing the room. Azura's hands flew to her mouth, horror and disbelief dueling inside her. She wanted to push her way to the front of the growing crowd, but at the same time, she didn't want to see a twisted body lying on the ground. 

    “It's empty!” 

    “What?” 

She could barely hear her own whisper as the nobles began chattering again, gossip spreading over the room like a flame. There was no body. The nails holding the lid in place had been pried up. The inside looked as if it had been torn apart. Iago's unctuous voice seemed to float to the top of the clamor like a scummy film as he intoned that the Hoshidans were more dastardly than they gave them credit for, to resort to something like this. Beside her, Xander shook with barely contained fury. 

    “...no... No, Father would not stoop to such pettiness as this... he would not desecrate our sister's body just to further stoke Nohr's fervor... He wouldn't!” Once again, that indescribable chill ran through Azura's veins, like a cold hand tightening around her chest. Hesitantly, she reached out to the older man, pausing for a moment before gently tugging on his sleeve. He could have ignored her, he could have rushed over at once and confronted their father. She was secretly hoping he would do just that, but instead, the crown prince shifted his focus to her. “What is it, Azura?” She opened her mouth, but remained silent. She wasn't even sure what she was hoping to gain by speaking up. It might have even been better to just stay silent, but she could not stop the words from spilling from her mouth. 

    “...I haven't seen Gunther all day...” For a long moment, Xander just stared at her, nonplussed, but slowly, the meaning of her words dawned on him. He reached up, burying his face in his hands and looking more broken than Azura thought a man could look. 

    “Why...? Why are these deviants hellbent on taking my little princess from me...?” She had no answer for him. She regretted opening her mouth. It was easier to lay the blame for this at Garon's feet.